


Each Slow Dusk

by gemystical



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Angst, Everyone Needs A Hug, Fluff, Multi, One Shot Collection, Reader-Insert, i have a lot of feelings about these characters okay, maybe smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-12
Updated: 2018-11-02
Packaged: 2019-03-17 11:22:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 33,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13657968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gemystical/pseuds/gemystical
Summary: A collection of words I never thought I'd show anybody. Various fluffy/angsty/probably eventually smutty one shots and drabbles I've written when I'm supposed to be working.





	1. No Night to Drown In (Poe)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So my name’s Lou and I’m new here. I’ve always loved writing and Star Wars so I thought I’d combine the two. The world can always use more reader fics right? I tend to name my fics from poetry I like to prepare for a lot of Sylvia Plath and Wilfred Owen references. Hope you enjoy..
> 
> Warnings: none, except maybe nightmares?
> 
> Title Inspiration: Lorelai, Sylvia Plath “It is no night to drown in:” (line 1)

The fire crept its way into the cockpit, licking over the glass. The shot from the TIE fighter had taken out Poe’s ejection mechanism. He was stuck, he was going to burn. He could feel the heat on his face already, beads of sweat started to roll down his forehead. This was it. BB-8 beeped from its seat behind Poe, a single low tone. A goodbye from his little orange best friend. Poe turned just in time to see the engine blow out, taking BB-8 and the entire back half of the X-Wing with it. He hung in the air for a moment, one strangely peaceful moment, before plummeting to the ground. His com monitor blinked red, his team was down. He was the last one left. He’d failed them, they might have made it if he hadn’t been so determined to take out every last enemy fighter. The remaining part of the X-Wing nosedived towards the sea, a fall from this height would kill him instantly, it would be like hitting concrete. Poe steeled himself for the impact, squeezed his eyes shut, as the water rushed up to meet him.

He shot up, panting, and ran a shaky hand through his hair. The old yellow t-shirt he’d worn to bed clung to him, his skin slick with cold sweat. Poe shivered, throwing the sheet off of him and padding his way through to the bathroom. BB-8 looked up at him and delivered a soft beep of comfort, but remained in its station. It knew there was only so much it could do when nights like these rolled around.

Poe peeled his shirt and sweatpants off, flinging them into the laundry basket he kept by the sink. He was surprised he’d managed to get to sleep at all, but the reappearance of the nightmare didn’t shock him. It was always the same. He’d get back from a mission, and for the next week he’d have the same dream. Sometimes it wasn’t water, sometimes it was rocks or a forest or sand, but the events remained unchanged. He made a bad call and lost the whole fleet, his best friends, BB-8, and then he crashed. He always woke up right before he hit the ground, breathing like he’d sprinted 30 miles. Poe turned the shower on, not bothering to wait for the water to heat up, and stood under the boiling stream for as long as he could bear. His thoughts ran through what he knew, what was real, and what wasn’t, the heat of the water dragging him back from the edge of sleep. His comm beeped from its charging port by his bed, and he reluctantly shut the water off. He pulled on a fresh shirt and sweatpants, unplugged the comm and took a deep breath before clicking it.

“Dameron.” His voice croaked, and he cleared his throat.

“Its Pava, she’s sleepwalking again. She made it into the corridor this time.” Poe recognised one of the patrol officer’s voices come crackling through his comm.

“On my way.” He sighed, Jess had seen more than her fair share of tragedy than some. Her sleepwalking tendencies made a lot of nights worse than others, but she’d never left her room before. Poe slipped his boots on, not bothering to change, before grabbing his key card and jogging to his best friend.

Almost everyone on base had nightmares, it was inevitable given some of the things they’d seen, but you had never seen anyone on your midnight walks around the base. It was something you did to keep your mind awake, to stop it wandering into the dark corners where you kept those vivid memories. You’d see the odd patrol around the corridors but they soon got used to bumping into you, offering sympathetic smiles and a pat on the shoulder as they went. You never made any effort to hide your walks, the patrol officers were always kind, and kindness was never something you could take for granted.

Tonight, there was screaming. It’s a raw, guttural sound slicing through the quiet of the base. Patrols rush past you, blasters at the ready. You follow behind them, but keep your steady pace rather than sprinting after them. Being a mechanic, you’d had your fair share of injuries both small and catastrophic, you know what to do when somebody gets hurt even with the little medical training you’d had. One of the patrol officers meets you at a corner, just a few feet from the scene. Kaye, a weapons analyst by day, puts her hands up before you can go any further. The noise had come from the pilots’ barracks, but you didn’t know any of them well enough to identify who it was.

“I know you’re no stranger to nightmares, just be grateful you’re not a sleepwalker too.” She sighs and, even in the dulled emergency lighting of the corridor, her blue skin glows. Kaye rests her hands on your shoulders, starting to turn you away from the scene. Her green eyes shift from you, to somebody behind you.

“General, Commander. She’s just around the corner, Dr Tignet is attending to your now.” Her demeanour is suddenly more professional, dropping her hands off of your shoulders and standing a little straighter. General Organa strides right past the two of you and around the corner, you can hear her whispering quiet encouragement to the distressed pilot. Commander Dameron stays still for a moment, seeming to steel himself for whatever awaited him, before he moves to follow Leia.

“Enjoy the show? Go to bed, Major.” He mutters as he pushes past you, and your eyebrows shoot up before you can stop them. Why would he know who you are? You rarely set foot in the command centre, and it’s not like you’d ever serviced his ship or his squadron. You’re a good engineer, but your reputation is hardly as prolific as his own. Kaye turns to you, presumably to apologise on behalf of the Commander, but you shrug. It had been a tough few weeks, everyone was tense. Kaye grants you a small smile and pats your shoulder before turning the corner.

You wander the darkened corridors for a little while longer, settling yourself in the mechanics’ rec room. Curled on one of the soft leather couches, you stare at the sky through the circular window. You hug your knees to your chest, lowering your gaze to the threadbare carpet in front of you. It’s adorned with the same patterns, the same colours, that had decorated your home world. You find a strange comfort in that old little rug, somehow, that you’d both ended up across the galaxy, in the same room at the same time. You glance up at the clock over the doorway and sigh in defeat, still 6 hours to go until dawn. Out of the corner of your eye, a new addition had found its home in the far corner of the room. A piano. You’d never played particularly well, unlike many families your parents had pushed their children towards practical skills rather than creative talents, but you’d fallen in love with piano. Sure, your fingers were far nimbler on the wiring of a spacecraft, but you knew your scales. You could play the lullabies from your childhood, maybe they’d help you sleep. Before you can register what was happening, your feet have taken you over to the old instrument. It has more keys than the ones from home, the scales are slightly off from what you were used to, but you find the familiar melodies in no time.

Poe isn’t tired anymore. He and Leia had gotten Jessika to medical with no problems, where she’d been given a sedative tab and offered more counselling. A lot of the pilots found it helpful to talk, although for some it only made memories more vivid. Poe had always turned down the opportunity, he knew how to deal with his mental state, he didn’t want someone telling him things he already knew. He worried about his team because they were his best friends, because every day they flew into battle not knowing if it was their last, because he was their leader. He’d handpicked each member of Black Squadron, if anything happened to them it was on him. Lost in his thoughts, he finds himself on the other side of the base. He was rarely over this way, everything he needed regularly seemed to be in the same area. Central Command, the mess hall, pilots’ barracks, and the hangar were all within a 3-minute walk of each other. The only reason he ever had to be on the service side of the base was if he needed medical or droid repair. The trouble is, in the dark, all the corridors looked the same and in his distracted state he’d lost track of the turns he’d made. A soft melody drifts through the halls, and something in Poe is desperate to follow it. He’d always thought the idea of the Force controlling everything, that there was a reason for everything, was a little ridiculous but he never failed to trust his gut instincts when it came to it. And right now, they’re screaming for him to follow the noise. The door to the mechanic’s rec room is ajar, the gold light from the lamps spilling out into the hall, and Poe pushes it wider to see who was playing.

You’re sat sideways on the rectangular stool, your knees pulled up underneath your chin and held steady with one hand, while the other dances over the keys. Sometimes you fumble over a note, but recover quickly, your fingers moving over the instrument as expertly as they did a motherboard. Poe is awestruck, he’d often discounted the quiet mechanic from Green Squadron because you seem to make little effort with anyone outside your own team. You rarely speak up at all, leaving people wondering how you managed to become a Major in the first place. It wasn’t until you went to work with Green Squadron that people fully understood what you could do, how you’d made Major so quickly.

“That’s beautiful.” Poe says quietly, not sure if you’d hear him over the tinkling of the keys in whatever trance you’re in. Your hand falters, drops away from the piano as you turn sheepishly to look at him.

“Sorry, I, uh,” you struggle to find the right words to explain, “I haven’t seen one of these since I left home. I can stop.” His brows furrow as he leans one shoulder against the wall, folding his arms. It strikes him, almost out of nowhere, how pretty you are. He’d noticed before, but something about your messy hair in the lamplight and the way you’re curled up on the piano stool made him realise that you really are beautiful. Maybe not in a conventional sense, but the stars are in your eyes and when you laugh with your friends, it’s like the sun has come out.

“You don’t need to apologise, I’m sorry I disturbed you. Trouble sleeping?” He asks, all the irritation from his voice earlier has disappeared and you visibly relax. You nod, moving your gaze everywhere except him.

“What else is new? It’s not like I’m the only one.” You sigh, finally twisting on the stool to face him fully. There’s not a lot of light in the room, but you don’t miss the dark circles under his eyes, or the way he stifles a yawn every few minutes. With all the adoration surrounding the pilots, it’s easy to forget that they work just as hard as everyone else. It’s easy to forget the things they’ve seen, the things they’ve had to do. He stands up straight, taking a chair closer to the piano. The two of you sit in silence for a little while, but it’s comfortable. It feels strangely calm, for the first time in weeks you’re not thinking about who’s going to die on the next mission. You’re not thinking about how the First Order could drop into the atmosphere and shoot the base into oblivion. Your mind is blank, the tension melts from your shoulders and your fingers return to the keys. Your touch is light, pressing them down enough to just barely make a sound. Poe rests his elbow on the arm of the chair, dropping his chin into his hand as he watches you.

It’s the first time, he realises, that he’s not seen you in the navy blue coveralls. That you haven’t been covered in sweat and engine grease, straddling the nose of an X-Wing. The first time he’s seen you look at ease, not frowning at a circuit board or console wiring. The quiet tinkling of the piano, coupled with the dimmed lamplight, almost sends him to sleep in the chair. You glance up, feeling his gaze heavy on you, and your eyes meet his. There’s something behind those dark eyes, a strange intensity that’s soft at the same time. A blush creeps involuntarily up your cheeks and you pray it’s too dark for him to tell, but the easy grin that slips onto his face. You expect him to say something, searching your own mind to find something to break the trance he seems to be in, but neither of you makes a sound. You just sit and stare at one another, each silently daring the other to drop their eyes and cut the tension that had settled over the room.

“You’re from Akiva, right?” Poe finally speaks up, and you let out a breath. You hardly expected him to know your name or your rank earlier, let alone where you were born. You nod slowly, pulling the cover down over the piano keys and leaning your forearm on the golden wood. You uncurl from your position on the stool and get up, dragging your feet as you shuffle over to the chair opposite him. He’s trying to be subtle, acting as though he’s simply waiting for you to answer, but you don’t miss the way his eyes trail up your body when you stand. You don’t miss the way he seems to hold his breath when you pass him. You don’t miss the way his fingers twitch towards you when your hand comes within touching distance. You settle into the soft leather, once again pulling your legs up to your body. The small smile breaks onto his face before he can stop it, but it disappears when you drop eye contact.

“Snap tends to sing when he works on his engine. What was it like there?” He leans forward in his chair and rests his elbows on his knees with his hands clasped together, attentive. You take a shuddering breath in, your mind creeping up to the memories you’ve kept a firm lid on for years. Leaving home was hard, while your closest friends called you brave, leaving them and your family behind for the Resistance was like ripping your own heart out. You’d buried the past and now there's Poe Dameron, all soft smiles and messy hair, ready to listen to your stories. You tiptoed around your family, glossing over fond memories of growing up, and instead tell him how it felt. How the air was always heavy, how the clouds would turn that telltale shade of blue-grey right before it started raining. You tell him how people built towers of chairs in the street, to serve as ladders for those caught in flash floods. A smile slowly creeps across your lips as you recount the summer days as a kid, when you’d run through the jungle with your friends until you all collapsed from exhaustion and your clothes stuck to your sweaty skin in the humidity. You tell him everything, so immersed in the colourful memories spilling through your brain that you don’t even register the way he's looking at you.

It's like Poe was seeing the sun for the first time, seeing you so animated. Happiness and warmth radiate from you, despite the clearly bittersweet memories. He can’t help but laugh at your exaggerated hand gestures, he can’t help but lean forward a little when you make eye contact with him. He can’t help but study every inch of your face when you're not watching him. This is a different kind of beauty. He’d seen you focused as you worked, seen you worried earlier in the corridor, he’d seen the way you curled into yourself when you thought you were alone. But he’d never witnessed the fire in your eyes as you recount memory after memory. As you talk about everything you love about your home planet, everything you hate and everything in between. Your eyes lock onto his, so bright they almost blind him and finally, he understands. He understands why people would look directly into the sun. However painful it was, however long they were left with purple splotches burned into their vision, it was dazzling. It was spectacular. He could watch you talk about your home planet until you glowed as bright as any sun and blinded him. It's in that moment, Poe decides. He’ll try his hardest to get you to glow a little more every day and maybe, just maybe, it’ll be enough to keep both of your nightmares at bay.


	2. Hearts of Fire (Finn)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This was supposed to be finished and posted yesterday but I got distracted doing research and ended up reading about the intricacies of X-Wing engineering and hyperdrives instead. On another note, please don’t hesitate to send in any requests or anything, I’d love to hear what you guys want to see!! My tumblr is fictional-brainfarts if you wanted to request something x
> 
> Warnings: a little swearing, 1 innuendo, injury, blood  
> Title Inspiration: Stars, Sara Teasdale: 
> 
> “Myriads with beating 
> 
> Hearts of fire” (lines 9&10)

It was a risky mission, both of them knew that, but Leia wasn’t going to send just anybody to get this information. After the battle at Crait, all Resistance outposts and affiliates had gone underground. The entire operation moved into the shadows. No more posters, no more open recruiting, they had to be stealthy to build their numbers back up. The General had sent Finn and Poe to a scrapyard on an Outer Rim moon, in the hopes that they could round up some more volunteers away from the prying eyes of the First Order. 

The shipping dock was packed, so much so that they had to wait for a bay to open up before they were cleared for landing. All manner of races and species from across the galaxy were loading ships, running stalls, and pushing trolleys. Finn was cautious when he lowered the bay doors of the nondescript shuttle they’d borrowed, stepping out onto the mud tentatively as he scanned the crowds for someone who matched the description Leia gave them. He was almost bowled over by Poe, who confidently strolled past him and towards the collection of makeshift market stalls. They were full of all kinds of little trinkets. Wires fashioned into bracelets, old rusted tools turned into cutlery, even sculptures of various animals from different planets. Finn stopped in his tracks, admiring the metal twisted into the shape of a Vulptex, it was no bigger than his hand but the details were extraordinary. He wondered if they’d ever find another permanent base, if he’d have somewhere to call home where he could keep little things like this sculpture. He was dragged out of his thoughts by Poe’s hand clapping down onto his shoulder. He grinned at his friend, who gestured at a shack behind them. The walls were an uneven collage of corrugated metal and rotting wood, panels from all different kinds of ships made up the roof, and the door clearly used to belong to an old Empire ship. 

“According to the very lovely Gossam gentleman over by the food stand, our contact runs The Store. He’s supposed to have working parts for every engine in existence, so keep an eye out for anything labelled T-70 and we’ll bring it back with us.” He grinned, knowing Leia was in talks with some other scrap dealers to secure a collection of X-Wings. 

“One day, you’re going to flirt with someone for information and just get punched.” Finn rolled his eyes at his friend, turning to face the shack completely and raised an unimpressed eyebrow. Poe didn’t respond, just winked, and set off across the yard to the building.

 

You released the straps on the co-pilot chair, grabbing your pack from under the console as you stood. Foskia nudged you, flipping her wrapped headtails behind her shoulders, and gestured towards the bay door with a lazy grin. The blue Twi’lek was by far the kindest captain you’d ever flown with. She never asked too much of you, and you knew you could count on her to help you if you needed it. The situation was the same with the other two crew members. Litz Northover, the other human, was short but strong with a firecracker personality to match her bright blonde hair. She was the best shot you’d ever seen, and a fantastic mechanic. She seemed to just know where to go to get the best spare parts for whichever ship they were flying. Foskia and Litz had been best friends since they were kids, and they’d welcomed you into that friendship with open arms. You’d been honest with your new captain straight from the beginning: your ultimate goal was to join the Resistance, you just had to find them first. The two women had immediately agreed, and you’d all talked long into the night about stories you’d heard and brief interactions you’d all had. The fourth member of Foskia’s crew was far more introverted. Sel, a Falleen, kept to himself, generally staying in his bunk if there wasn’t work to be done. It had taken a few weeks for him to even speak to you, but you’d brushed it off without a worry. You all knew very little about him, only that he was a good negotiator, and worth his salt in a fight if it came to it. Foskia just shrugged at when you asked her about him and you she didn’t need to know where he came from, just that she believed he’d have everyone’s back if they needed him to. Litz, on the other hand, always tried to involve him in the conversation but it often ended up in the two of them having a shouting match over dinner whilst you and Foskia ate in silence. 

“I’ll stay here. I’ve got some checks to do.” Sel said quietly as you passed him. You nodded, pretending not to hear Litz mutter ‘good’ under her breath. Rolling your eyes, you patted her on the shoulder and the two of you followed your captain out into the yard.

You squinted in the sunlight reflecting off the mountains of scrap metal that surrounded the landing yard. The market wasn’t far from where you’d landed, but it was full of people. It seemed that as soon as one ship took off, another landed in its place. One ship stuck out from the others as it came in to land a few bays down from yours. The scruffy, scratched up shuttle barely looked big enough for the two men that walked out of it, you wondered what they were here for if not scrap.  
“Busy day, then.” Litz raised her eyebrows at the sight of the crowd. 

“I’m going to try and find a panel that’ll fit the hole that nerf-herder blasted in our wing. You two can visit Jax, see if he’s got a hyperdrive motivator that’ll fit.” Foskia pulled a small datapad from her jacket, typing away at it furiously for a few seconds while Litz climbed into the hatch on the side of the freighter to detach the current hyperdrive motivator. It had been knocked out of alignment when you’d taken the shot to the wing, after the four of you had dropped out of lightspeed and right into the middle of a First Order air fight. The casing had shattered, leaving the wiring loose and the whole motivator completely unsalvageable. She climbed out of the hatch, tossed the motivator to you and you caught it with ease.

“Ask nicely!” Foskia called over her shoulder to the two of you as she made her way over to the scrapyard gates. You and Litz smiled innocently, batting your eyelashes as if to say ‘we’re always nice’, before setting off in the opposite direction towards the market. 

The Store, as the rusted sign stated, wasn’t much to look at from the outside, but the inside held all manner of mechanical treasures. The contrast of the dark interior was welcome after the glaring sunshine from outside. The tiny windows in the front wall were covered by shelved, the only light provided by buzzing strip lights across the length of the ceiling. It took a few seconds for your eyes to adjust as you followed Litz to the back of the building. The mismatching shelves were stacked floor to ceiling, piled with all kinds of different engine parts and tools. 

The counter ran the full length of the back wall, although its surface only came to your mid-thigh so you supposed it was more of a desk. It was littered with half-mended engines and rusted tools that had definitely seen better days. The man behind the desk was, like everything else on this moon, covered in a thin layer of orange dust but his bright smile shone through as he chatted with a customer. It was one of the men you’d seen leaving the scruffy shuttle in the landing bays, deep in conversation with the man you assumed was Jax. Litz didn’t seem phased, sidling up to the two of them and perching herself on the desk beside an engine that was twice the size of her. She tapped Jax on the shoulder, the million credit smile already on her face. 

“We need a hyperdrive motivator,” you started, taking over before Litz can even open her mouth, “Fos says you’d have one.” 

You were suddenly hyper aware of all their gazes on you, shifting uncomfortably under the scrutiny. Clearly, no one here was expecting you to speak. You held steady, looking expectantly at the others, despite wanting to run. Jax looked taken aback, suddenly letting out a hearty laugh.

“It’s a VCX-100 but whatever you’ve got, I’ll make it fit.” Litz piped up, cracking her knuckles and grinning at the shopkeeper again. He held your gaze a little longer before running his eyes over Litz, who was still perched on the edge of the counter. Jax smirked, and ventured off into a back room. You and Litz exchanged a glace, knowing he wouldn’t just let the two of you walk out with a hyperdrive motivator without giving him something in return. And with the way he looked at the both of you, you were a little worried about what he might ask for. The man beside you cleared his throat and you turned to him, raising a questioning eyebrow. He looked like he was about to say something, but a clatter from behind distracted you. 

The second man you’d seen dismount the small shuttle appeared from around a block of shelves with a sheepish grin on his face. He looked questioningly at his friend before turning to take in the new arrivals, and you could have sworn your heart stopped as he looked at you. Dark eyes set in smooth dark skin, with the ghost of a smile playing on his lips. He looked solid, strong, but soft. There was a kindness in his gaze, the type of kindness that was rare nowadays, as though the whole galaxy was at peace. He was one of the most beautiful people you’d ever seen and he was staring right back at you, as though he’d forgotten about the scrap engine parts in his hands. You cleared your throat, dropping your gaze to your muddy boots as though they were the most interesting things in the galaxy. He shook himself out of the trance and handed his friend the mess of metal and wiring, only for it to be snatched out of his hands by Litz as she practically leapt off of the desk.

“No way,” She breathed, staring in awe at the machinery, “Is that…?” 

“What are you two doing collecting fusial thrust splitters?” You asked, an amused smirk on your face as you watched the men struggle for an answer. You might not have been the greatest mechanic but you knew the key parts of your dream ship. You knew what went into an X-Wing’s engine. These two were Resistance, they had to be. The state of their shuttle, the worn leather jackets, the hushed conversation. It all pointed to one thing.

Luckily for them, Jax emerged from the back room clutching a clearly brand new hyperdrive motivator. Litz handed the splitters back, albeit reluctantly, to the second man and leaned over the counter to grab the box. Jax pulled it out of her reach at the last second, tutting as a mischievous grin overtook his features. You furrowed your eyebrows, wondering what he was going to ask for in return. You eyed Litz, her face suddenly unreadable, and ran through your ship’s supplies in your mind. What was this junk trader thinking?

“See this,” He gestured to the box in his hand, “This is from my personal collection. It’s not cheap. So, you’re going to let me take you out next time you dock here.” Jax’s pale eyes raked across your body, as though they left a slimy trail from your head to your heels. Your eyebrows shot up in surprise, it was usually Litz that attracted people. Men just seemed to fall at her feet, lusting after her soft curves and dazzling confidence. She opened her mouth, ready to offer to take your place and spare you from whatever he had in store, but once again you cut her off before she could even start.

“Deal.”

Even the men from the shuttle stared at you in shock. Your ship needed the motivator, the choice was simple. You’d just actively avoid setting foot on this moon again until you absolutely had to. Litz seemed to have a similar thought, grabbing your hand when Jax turned his back to change his inventory.

“Skips, we are never fucking coming back here. I’m not putting you through that.” She whispered into your ear. She spun back to face the trader before he even knew she’d said anything to you. The two of you nodded at the Resistance members before you left, the second man’s eyes still burning in your mind as you retreated.

Back at the ship, Foskia was already fitting the new panel. She glanced up as you approached, waving madly, and jumped down from her perch on the wing, drill still in hand. She raised an eyebrow at the new condition of the motivator, and Litz jerked a thumb in your direction. Words weren’t needed, Fos understood how Jax worked. She knew this moon was done with now, it was a good thing they had other scrapyards they could forage for parts in. You shrugged, following the blonde to the hatch and handing her the tools she needed to fit the new motivator. She’d climbed right inside the body of the ship to reach it properly and you were leaning in through the hatch from the waist up, a torch between your teeth and a screwdriver in your hand, when the shouting started.

You clambered out of the engine, Litz following behind, and found yourself staring down the barrels of 8 Stormtrooper blasters. You could barely hear anything over Foskia and a few other scrappers arguing with the soldiers. It took two of them to detain Fos, clamping her wrists into restraints and forcing her to her knees. The other scavengers backed off, realising this wasn’t going to end well, and the other troopers approached you and Litz. Sel was already sat in the dirt, a bruise beginning to darken his cheekbone.

“You are being taken in for questioning with regards to the Resistance. You will come quietly.” The mechanical crackle did little to hide the tremor in the soldier’s voice. Clearly it was his first time out in the field. 

“Sure,” You barked out a laugh, catching the attention of the scruffy shuttle owners “I’ve never come quietly in my life, are you really that bad?” 

While your crewmates stifled giggles, even Sel, Mr Buckethead wasn’t exactly thrilled with your response. He raised his blaster, pressing the barrel into your forehead and you stared right back into the black visor. Defiant, you weren’t backing down. He changed direction at the last second, and burned a hole through the middle of Sel’s forehead. He slumped forward, landing face first in the mud, and you swallowed the scream that threatened. Blaster fire erupted in the air from your left, the two Resistance guys taking shot after shot at the white armour. As soon as the leader was down, you dove for the key card at his hip and unlocked Foskia’s restraints. You ushered your surviving friends towards the first man, and he directed them onto the little shuttle as the second lay down cover fire. You grabbed the second man by the collar as you ran past, dragging him into the ship after you. You were almost there, you’d almost made it. And then it happened.

The burning in your right hip sent you tumbling to the floor, blood already beginning to darken your green shirt. The second man was by your side in an instant, wrapping an arm underneath yours and half-carrying you into the shuttle. He set you down on the nearest sleeping pod and immediately set to work. He tore the singed fabric away from the wound to get a better look, and you pretended not to hear his sharp intake of breath as he surveyed it.

“Finn, I need you here, we need to get in the air now!” The first man called from the cockpit, and you felt the shuttle rumble to life underneath you. Your crewmates appeared at your side, Foskia had a little medical training and moved to help the man, Finn, to clean up your side as best they could. She looked desperately up at Litz, who suddenly paled. You knew she’d never flown before, but now was as good a time as any to learn.

“He better be a fuckin’ good teacher.” The blonde squeezed your hand before running towards the cockpit. The launch was shaky, but soon enough you were away and jumped into lightspeed without another problem.

Finn continued to work on your injury, dabbing antiseptic and antibiotic ointments over your hip. Although you tried not to, a few little squeaks of pain managed to break past your lips. He always stopped, gave you a sweet smile, and let you calm down before resuming his task. There was no equipment to stitch you back up in the shuttle’s small medical kit, although he couldn’t imagine he’d have done a brilliant job even if there had been. So, he lifted your shirt up and wrapped a bandage tightly around your middle. You couldn’t help but shiver as his fingers brushed your skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. You blamed it on the pain, on the blood loss, although you couldn’t deny he was attractive. The fact he’d saved your life was just a bonus. He looked up at you, that kindness still behind his eyes, and grinned.

“That’s Poe,” he said, tilting his head back in the direction of the cockpit, “I’m Finn.” He held out his hand, and you took it in your own. Instead of shaking it, you simply squeezed it and let your interlinked fingers lay on the thin mat beside your injury. You introduced yourself and your friends, telling Finn all about where you came from and where you hoped to go. His face lit up when you mentioned that you wanted to join the Resistance, he held your hand a little tighter. Fos sat at the foot of the pod, quietly snoring as she leaned against the back wall. You giggled at her awkward position, and Finn could have sworn his heart was about to burst out of his chest at the sound.

“The Resistance, huh? With all the sass you were throwing at those troopers, I think you’ll fit right in.” He said, smirking. He ran his thumb over your knuckles thoughtfully, watching as you worked out where you were all going. The grin that broke out threatened to split your face clean in half, you were finally going to achieve what you’d dreamed of for so long. You could only hope it was everything you thought it would be and somehow, with the way Finn was watching you, you knew it would be.


	3. More Than Words (Poe)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I do more writing when I'm supposed to be working than when I actually set aside time to write. 
> 
> Warnings: injury, blood, like 1 swear
> 
> Title Inspiration: Uriconium: An Ode, Wilfred Owen, “For Rome hath left us more than walls and words” (line 109)

Poe had barely touched down, only just thought to shut off the engine, when he leapt out of the x wing. It had been carnage, chaos. The First Order had infiltrated their ranks and attacked them mid-training. They didn’t stand a chance. People jumped out of his way as he raced across the yard, their confused whispers following him. Half of their newly acquired fleet had been destroyed, but that wasn’t the source of his panic. This time, he’d watched helplessly as a hijacked X Wing landed a hit on your engines, as your beloved yellow ship exploded in the air and spiralled to the ground below. The horrified scream over the coms system still echoed in his ears. He hoped you’d made it out. He hoped, but he knew there was no escaping an inferno like that.

The crash site had been cordoned off, officers directing people away from the scene. But even through the black smoke billowing into the air, Poe could see the damage. Five X Wings in total were crumpled in a heap, flames licking at the metal. The Amber, you had named it for its bright colour, lay split in two beneath the rest of the wreckage. A giant hole was ripped through the hull, the left wings had caught fire, the explosion pushed jagged metal from the back engines through the pilot seat to pierce the console. Blood dripped from the shrapnel. You were gone. They’d gotten you out, but he knew you were gone. He took a shaky breath in, replaying the conversation he’d had with you before everybody set out.

 

_“And you definitely don’t need my help this time?” You teased, holding his helmet just out of reach with a wicked grin on your face._

_“Don’t you have your own team to train?” He replied, quickly snatching the helmet from your grasp. You leaned forward, so close your noses were almost touching. Poe’s heart was in his throat, beating a thousand times a second. He studied your face, as he always did when you got this close. The different flecks of colour in your eyes, the ever-present flush in your cheeks. A breeze blew through the open hangar doors, wafting forward a scent that was so unmistakably you. For a second, he forgot where he was, you were the only thing that mattered._

_“Fine,” you whispered, breath fanning his face, “I’ll catch you later, flyboy.”_

 

He hadn’t realised before, just how beautiful he thought you were. He hadn’t realised just how much you meant to him. He wished he’d realised before, just how much he loved you. But you’d never get to know, not now.

Poe didn’t know how long he was standing there, but it had been long enough that the officers stopped telling him he should go. People moved around him silently, keeping their distance, leaving him to his quiet grief. It was common knowledge that you two were close, the shameless teasing, absent touches, and hushed midnight conversations in darkened corridors didn’t go unnoticed. Although there had always been rumours, right from the moment he walked back into the hangar with your name on his flight suit and a cocky grin on his face, you were best friends. You had been since you were kids, those were the kinds of things that best friends do, right? He traced his fingers over your looped handwriting on the orange cloth.

 

You’d approached him the second you disembarked the small craft after your first mission together, with that irresistible mischievous glint in your eyes, and told him to hold still. Whipping a black marker out from behind your back, you scrawled your name just underneath his left collarbone, a crooked smirk broke across your face as you admired your handiwork. He returned the favour, marking ‘DAMERON’ in big letters across the back of your bomber jacket. He still remembered Leia when the two of you entered central command, the visible relief on the General’s face when you’d come back safely, her silent amusement when she saw his flight suit, and then the way her eyebrows shot up into her hairline when you turned to leave. You and Poe had been the best out there that day, he was quickly building a reputation for his flying skills, while you were already established as the best marksman the resistance had ever seen. It was a sort of pact, your name over his heart and his across your shoulders. It marked you as a team. You were unstoppable, inseparable. Until this. You wore that jacket every day, in every fight and today was no different. It had been the last thing he thought as he watched you walk away to your own X Wing. That little spark of satisfaction in his chest, seeing his name worn so proudly on your back.

 

“Commander?”

Leia’s voice broke his trance and realised it had gotten dark, he had no idea how long he’d been there. He looked over to her, desperately trying to keep his cool. He wasn’t surprised to see the red flush across her cheeks, the faint outline tear tracks hastily wiped away. She’d just lost the person she considered a second child, the Resistance’s best shot, after all.

“I said you’re needed in medical. The Major is asking for you.”

Poe’s heart stopped. He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t speak. He faltered, only just catching himself before he fell. His throat was tight from hours of unshed tears, but he managed to choke out a whisper, just one word.

“Where?”

“Bay 37, it’s bad but the doctors are confident.”

Leia had barely finished speaking before he brushed past her and on his way to you.

“Poe?” Leia called after him. He turned, unable to keep the smile off of his face, feet itching to run up to the medic bays.

“You should say something, we all see the way you look at each other. You’re not as subtle as you think.” She grinned as a dark blush crept its way up his cheeks, Poe span on his heel and ran. He didn’t give himself time to process what the General had just said to him. He already knew it was time, it had been time for a while. He had to tell you, there was no way he could keep secrets after this.

 

Sprinting through the corridors to the medical wing may have only taken him a few minutes, but the seconds passed like hours. Part of him didn’t want to open the curtain, was afraid of what he’d say to you, but your voice cut through the bustle of the other patients and doctors.

“Don’t lurk, P, it’s creepy.”

He let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding and pulled the powder blue curtain back. Poe hadn’t prepared himself for just how bad a shape you were in.

 

The right side of your chest and shoulder was bandaged up, numerous electrical pads and wires protruded from every exposed inch of your body. The worst by far was your leg. Your left thigh was blistered and burned, the stark white cloth that enveloped your lower leg was already stained red. The brightest red he’d ever seen. His gaze settled on your face, on your smile. Shaky but solid, you were alive. Blinking back tears, he flew across the room to your bedside and clasped your dirty hands in his own.

“It’s not as bad as it looks.” Your voice was hoarse, but strong. Ever defiant, it would take more than fire to destroy your spirit. Poe’s mind was empty, everything he’d ever known had been forgotten, except for you. Those eyes pierced through the soot on your face, through his own and right into his soul. The same old you. He chuckled, unable to hide his beaming smile as relief flooded over him and sank into the chair beside the bed.

 

“Don't you ever fucking do that again.” He rested his forehead on your linked hands, still not quite believing you were there.

“Like I could ever leave you,” you giggled, “You couldn’t function without me.”

“No, I couldn’t. I didn’t want to.”

“What?” Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“It was,” Poe struggled to articulate the emptiness he’d felt only minutes earlier “It was like I didn’t want to face it, anything, without you there.”

“P,” you started, but he cut you off.

“You’re my best friend, sunshine. I should have realised something was wrong, I should have known. I knew something felt off about the whole thing.” He couldn’t tell you now, not here. Not like this. You pulled a hand from his grip and rested it on his face, gently stroking his cheek with your thumb. He leaned into your touch, sighing heavily.

“None of us knew, and the guilt will eat you alive if you let it. It wasn’t your fault, P.” You smiled softly, noticing just how tired he looked beneath the harsh strip lights.

 

He finally raised his head, locking eyes with you just in time to see the first tear roll down your dirty cheek. You patted the bed next to you and he hesitantly obeyed, careful not to sit too close for fear of hurting you, extremely aware of your body beside his. You shuffled over until you were touching, taking Poe’s left hand to wrap his arm around you. He stiffened, but relaxed as you rested your head on his shoulder.

“Thank you, P. You’re the best person I know.” You whispered, so softly that he didn’t think he’d heard you correctly. You reached across to his free hand, linking his fingers in your own, and he knew he hadn’t misheard. He dropped a kiss in your hair, a small smile creeping onto his face when you sighed contentedly.

Poe had no idea how long you were sat there, but he never wanted to get up. The arrival of a doctor, however, meant he had to. He kept his eyes trained on your face from the other side of the room as they cleaned and redressed your wounds. Every wince, every tiny squeak of pain, was like a kick to his stomach. He knew something was off when he’d found the three new recruits in the hangar so late, but he’d put the worry down to sleep deprivation and paranoia. Sure, you were insistent that he couldn’t have done anything, but he’d known. His instincts had screamed that something was wrong about the whole situation, right up until the three X Wings swung around in tight formation and opened fire, and his best friend almost died. That was on him.

The second the doctor had finished, Poe moved to resume his previous position but she caught his arm before he could.

“Commander, they won’t recover without rest. I’ll get someone to take a look at that cut for you and then you should go to bed. You look like you haven’t slept in weeks.” She said quietly, gesturing to the gash on his forehead. He’d forgotten it was even there, the scratch paled in comparison to the person on the bed in front of him. He nodded, taking a last look at you as he followed the doctor out into the hall. He obeyed her commands, allowing her to stitch up the cut above his left eyebrow. He was numb, emotionally exhausted, but he refused to go back to his quarters. He refused to leave you, he didn’t want you to wake up alone. So as soon as the doctor was done, he ducked back into your room with an apologetic smile at a passing nurse.

You were asleep, your breathing deep and even. You looked calm, relaxed, as though you hadn’t been betrayed and almost killed in one of the most horrific crashes he’d ever seen. A bruise was beginning to darken underneath your right eye, and he ran his fingers over it lightly. He dragged the chair back to your bedside, settling into it with a heavy sigh and interlocked his fingers with yours again. He traced his fingertips over your knuckles, memorising every ridge and every wrinkle in the skin of your hand. He took a shaky breath in, focusing his eyes on your face, and took a moment to collect his thoughts.

“I guess,” he whispered, stumbling over his words a little, “I guess I didn’t notice because it happened slowly. But when I thought I lost you, I just – seeing you wear my name on your jacket like that, and the way you look at me when you think I’m not paying attention. I know because – because I look at you like that too. Because I love you. I love you more than I know I should and its okay if you don’t want me to. I’ll stop if you ask, I’ll try. I know you can’t hear me, and I promise I’ll tell you properly one day. I just don’t want to keep secrets from you, ever. Not anymore.”

He could have sworn there was a ghost of a smile on your lips, but he knew you were out cold. There was no way you could have known he was even there, let alone that he was confessing his feelings for you. He rested his head on the bed, forehead touching your shoulder, and sighed. It was there, leaning forward in that uncomfortable metal chair, that Poe vowed to himself that he’d do whatever it would take to keep you out of the medical bay for the rest of your life.


	4. My Safe Place (Poe)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> RP 34: “I have loved you so much, for so long.” (Poe/Reader + mother figure Leia)  
> Tumblr Request from @localfatgirl: 34 for Poe x reader with some General Leia mixed in there as a mentor/motherly figure please

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You’ll notice the nicknames ‘Skips’ and ‘Skipper’ will come up a lot in my writing, it’s what I call my little sister because she insists on skipping everywhere and I suck at coming up with pet names. I definitely got carried away with this one, there’s backstory and everything.  
> I've got a couple of requests for lines with Rey and a couple for Hux so keep an eye out for those in the coming days, requests are always open on my tumblr fictional-brainfarts :)
> 
> Title Inspiration: A Safe Place To Cry, Donna Elouise James, "I find my safe place to cry" (line 3)
> 
> You can find my prompt lines post here: https://fictional-brainfarts.tumblr.com/post/170975449809/prompt-lines

The beeping on your datapad dragged you from your sleep, and you stuck a hand blindly out of your blankets to switch the sound off. Groaning, you sat up and brushed your hair out of your face. You stayed still for a moment, happily existing in that halfway world between sleeping and waking, before reluctantly throwing the blanket off of your body and letting the cold air shock you awake fully. You shivered as you lowered your feet to the tiled floor, wiggling your toes a little, and spared a glance at your datapad. 5:30am blinked at you in neon blue and you let out another groan. You didn’t have to be in central command for another 2 hours, but there was always something else that needed doing in medical so you figured that was the best place for you to spend the time.

 

There weren’t a lot of recruits in the halls at this time in the morning, most of the base was only just waking up, but there were still a few graveyard shifters roaming around. You’d been on rota for last night’s shift, but found yourself shooed out of the medical wing by your commanding officer when you had shown up for work.

“General Organa wants you and secondary in the 7:30 meeting tomorrow. Go to bed, Doctor.” She’d grumbled and turned you back around. You knew the general was sending field troops out on a mission, but you never thought she’d send your team out with them. You had joined the Resistance as soon as Leia said you were old enough, following in your parents’ footsteps after their involvement in the Rebellion. The two of them soon joined you there, your father in central command and your mother as an X-Wing mechanic. You knew they’d have loved to be back in the thick of the fight but between your father’s back problems and your mother’s PTSD, it was the closest either of them were going to get to their old jobs. You smiled at the nurse who had volunteered to cover your shift last night, patting her shoulder in thanks as she turned to leave, and settled in to some of the odd jobs you’d ignored for a little too long. As it turned out, filing and restocking supplies took longer than you expected them to and soon enough your secondary poked his head around the door.

“Ready, Doc?” Tapps grinned, leaning against the doorway to your office. You stood up, smoothing out your already pristine white uniform, and Tapps raised an eyebrow.

“I’m not going into a meeting with the general wearing yesterday’s scrubs. Don’t act like you’re not dressed to the nines either.” You replied, elbowing him out of the way as you started in the direction of the central command room.

 

Your father was the one to greet the two of you at the door, unsurprisingly the general was busy preparing her notes for the meeting. He smiled warmly, not hesitating to pull you into a hug despite the tense atmosphere in the room.

“Morning, Dad.” You muttered into his uniform, hugging him a little tighter before you let go. He held you at arm’s length, hands steady on your shoulders, and studied you for a moment.

“Your mother wanted to be here, she told me to tell you she’s sorry. It wasn’t a good night, Skips.” He said quietly, although Tapps had wandered off to let the two of you have a little time to yourselves before the meeting started up. You knew your mother had flashbacks, nightmares and PTSD were common among fighter pilots. Being a doctor, you tried as best you could to help them, but there weren’t enough sleeping tablets or therapy sessions in the galaxy to put an end to the memories. Your mother was one of the worst cases on base, ranging from vivid nightmares to seeing her dead friends walking around outside. Sometimes it was easier to sedate her for a night, just so she could get some rest. You shook your head, she didn’t need to apologise for not being there, you understood why. You had your fair share of visions of the past in the small hours of the morning. Your father smiled, the emotion not quite reaching his eyes, and descended the metal stairs back to his desk. You tugged on Tapps’ sleeve, gesturing for him to follow you down to the central console.

 

General Organa offered you a warm smile when she saw you, immediately handing her datapad off to someone and starting towards you. She trailed her fingers down your cheek, resting her hand on your shoulder.

“Good to have you with us, Doctor. I need you on this.” She squeezed your shoulder with a worry behind her eyes that you couldn’t quite place, but you nodded and grinned back anyway. Leia was a second mother to you, when your own couldn’t be around. She was the toughest person you’ve ever met, with the kindest heart. She took the time to get to know the people around her, she knew when they weren’t at 100%, and she strived to do the right thing in all situations. Truth be told, she inspired you. Leia was the one to convince you to follow your dream, to become a medic, and you had turned into the best doctor the Resistance had. The general kept her hand on your shoulder, leading you towards the central console, and remained beside you as the rest of the room gathered around. A flash of orange across the wide circle caught your eye, and you snapped your gaze up to meet the dark eyes you knew would be waiting for you.

 

Poe Dameron’s smile was almost blinding. Only almost, but your heart rate still tripled when you made eye contact. It always did, you’d have been surprised if he couldn’t hear it from across the room. Anyone with eyes knew Poe was attractive, but that wasn’t why you liked him. You’d liked him from the second he staggered into the medical bay after his first big mission, a blaster hole in his hip and the biggest grin on his face. You were still in training back then, so your skills weren’t up to par with what they were now, but you stitched him up without any major issues. Since that day, he’d requested you every time he needed treatment, even if it was just a headache. Even when he was unconscious and pulled in on a trolley, bruised and bleeding, you grabbed any passing nurse to finish your work and made a beeline for him. Every time, because you knew it’d be the first question he’d ask when he woke up. It always was. You didn’t want to admit that you liked him more than you should, mainly because he was a pain in your ass above all else, but you could never hold back the smile when you saw him. You were always the first out on the tarmac when he came back from missions, always the first person he ran to when he jumped out of his X-Wing. There was a softness in his eyes when he looked at you, a softness that didn’t seem to be there with anyone else, but you knew he didn’t like you that way. He was familiar with everybody, friend or stranger, it was just the way he was.

 

The general nudged you out of your thoughts, a smile on her face, and you realised that you and Poe were still staring at each other across the console. You fought the blush that threatened your cheeks and dropped your eyes to the floor, gesturing for her to start the meeting. You might have been staring at the floor, but Leia wasn’t. She didn’t miss the disappointment that flashed in Poe’s eyes when you looked away, the way his smile vanished in a split second. She raised a brow at him, and he quickly discovered a very interesting loose thread on his flight suit, fiddling with it so he didn’t have to look at her.

 

The mission was simple enough: Poe, you, Tapps, and Jessika were heading into the New Republic to gain support. Except there were whispers. Whispers of corruption and deals made under the table, deals with the First Order. You were going there to gather intel, to find out if the rumours were true, to make sure any senators as yet undecided on the matter would swing your way. The Republic was split, something that the galaxy couldn’t afford, and it was your job to change that. Leia had suggested you bring along someone who served in the Rebellion, to remind the New Republic what the Empire had done, to show them what the First Order could do. You shot her down before she could finish making her point, you refused to parade your mother around as a negotiation strategy, as a bargaining chip. You didn’t mean to speak out of turn, or to be so dismissive of Leia, but you spit the words out fiercely. The general meant well, but you wouldn’t let that happen. You caught Poe’s eye across the console again and he gave you a firm nod. He knew how much your mother struggled, he knew because he had the same problems. It was you that he went to when he couldn’t sleep, it was you who ran their fingers through his hair and held him when he cried. You never judged, never asked him why, you just pulled him close and let your heartbeat calm him down.

 

General Organa dismissed the meeting with a nod, squeezing your hand and muttering an apology in your ear before she left. You knew she didn’t mean to strike a nerve with you, but she admitted she should have known better. You patted Tapps on the shoulder and told him to get ready, they were leaving in an hour. You turned to leave, but a warm hand caught your arm. A tingling sensation spread through your body from the point of contact, and you didn’t need to look to know who the hand belonged to.

“I didn’t see you at dinner yesterday, so I stopped by your room after but you weren’t there. I just wanted to say thank you for, you know, patching me up yesterday.” Poe smiled sheepishly, scratching at the back of his neck, but didn’t drop his hand from your arm. He looked like he wanted to say something else, but beeping and urgent nudging against your leg pulled your attention away from him.

 

“Hi BB,” You grinned, immediately dropping to your knees in front of the droid, “I hope that one’s not running you into the ground.” You chuckled and scratched under its little domed head. You knew BB-8 couldn’t actually feel your touch, but it chirped happily at the affection all the same. You glanced up at Poe and cocked an eyebrow, he shook his head in amusement. He was always adamant that his little droid loved you more than it loved him. You patted BB-8 on the head, your knees clicking as you stood up, and held Poe’s gaze for a few long seconds. You could see the cogs turning in his head, so you waited for him to organise his thoughts and actually say what he clearly wanted to. Someone called your name, and you sighed.

“I’ll see you on the tarmac, Dameron.” You winked at him before turning away, his gaze was heavy on your back as you climbed the metal staircase and exited the room. BB-8 nudged Poe’s leg, frustrated beeps pouring out of the little droid. Poe tore his eyes away from the door and shook his head. It wasn’t even the first time this week he’d wanted to tell you how he felt, how he’d felt since the first time you’d flashed him a smile brighter than the sun and he forgot how to speak. He was sure you knew what you did to him, you had to have noticed that you made his brain short-circuit.

 

By that evening you were standing in front of the entire Galactic Senate, in full uniform, as Poe once again pleaded the Resistance’s case. They remained steady in their denial, despite the proof of the First Order’s blatant militarisation and invasions. The commander looked at his wits end, his charming professional persona was beginning to crack, and the desperation started to seep into his voice. You were stood to his right, between Pava and Tapps, too far away to brush your fingers against his to calm him down. It was something you’d discovered accidentally, when a debate in the central command room had taken a turn. You hadn’t heard what the other pilot said to Poe, but it was enough for him to get angry. You’d stepped in the middle of the two, hands firmly on Poe’s cheeks, and you forced him to look at you. His shoulders dropped, his breathing slowed and he visibly relaxed. Since then you made sure to keep an eye on him, you knew how passionate he could get sometimes. Your feet made the decision for you, and you took a step forward. You cleared your throat and all eyes turned to you. Poe immediately gave you the floor, but stayed within arm’s reach in case you needed him. The talks weren’t going anywhere, you needed to give them something they could relate to, something they could understand. And you knew exactly what to do.

 

“Senators, with all due respect, we’ve seen this before. The First Order exists to continue the work of the Empire, and we can’t-“

“Speaking out of turn doesn’t suit you, Doctor.” A senator you didn’t recognise cut you off, and your eyebrow raised of its own accord. You felt Poe move closer, silently begging you not to say anything else, but you knew he understood that you had to keep talking. The senators had to hear this.

“We can’t ignore the fact that the effects of the Empire are still being felt today. You know Commander Dameron, where he comes from, but you don’t know me. My mother was a fighter pilot too, she flew as Red Three. Under Wedge Antilles, and alongside Luke Skywalker. She was at Scarif, at Yavin IV, she fought at Hoth, and she flew at Endor. She doesn’t fly for us because she can’t sit in a cockpit without crying. She sees her dead friends in the halls of our base, she doesn’t sleep at all. I used to wake up at night to blaster fire and holes in our living room walls because she saw Stormtroopers in our house. Some nights I have to sedate my own mother just so she can rest.” Your voice trembled with unshed tears, but you refused to break. They had to hear your mother’s story, they had to know what they were risking.

 

“And,” You continued before any of them could interrupt you, “Some of our pilots are already there. Would you really subject another generation to those horrors? I think we’ve said all we can, the rest is your choice. Thank you, senators.” You nodded once and turned on your heel, the rest of the group following closely behind you.

 

The flight back to D’Qar was silent, aside from the occasional crackle of the comm system. Tapps was out of his seat and marching towards the cockpit the second the ship was in hyperspace, leaving you to your thoughts. Guilt had washed over you the second you brought up your mother, but it was the only way you could have swayed the senate’s judgement. Although you still weren’t sure they were going to support the Resistance now, but you hoped your mother’s story made a difference. You prayed to the Maker that she’d forgive you for it. For doing the very thing that you told Leia you would never do.

 

The general was waiting on the tarmac when you landed, she’d heard everything you said to the senate over your comm, and she greeted you with a tight hug. You wrapped your arms around her, craving that motherly touch that told you everything was going to be okay. This hug meant it was alright, this hug meant you’d done what you had to, this hug said thank you. When she finally pulled away, she kept a hold of your hand, and she called over her shoulder.

“Commander, my office, ten minutes.”

Poe nodded, saluting before he turned back to the post-flight checks on the shuttle. He didn’t miss the look you gave him. The look that told him you were sorry, although he wasn’t sure what you were sorry for.

 

“He likes you too, you know.” Leia remarked as she tidied up her desk, not looking up to gauge your reaction. Your brows furrowed for a moment, wondering exactly what it was she meant, before you worked it out.

“He forgot to turn his personal comm off after the meeting. He couldn’t stop telling Jessika how he’d never been prouder, watching you sass the Galactic Senate. I have to say, I was impressed myself.” She finally looked up to see you frozen by the chair opposite hers, fingers scratching at the rough upholstery.

“They had to hear it, they had to know. I just feel awful using her situation like that, like a bargaining chip.” You mumbled, busying yourself by picking at a loose thread on the chair in front of you. You ignored what she told you he’d said, you didn’t want to play that game now. Leia moved from behind her desk, resting a hand on your cheek. You leaned into her touch, and let her calm nature radiate through her palm and into your body. You took a deep breath, and she smiled at you. Words weren’t always necessary between the two of you, you knew she cared and that she was proud of you. You knew she wanted you to be happy with what you’d done today.

 

A knock on the door broke your concentration, and Leia dropped her hand from your face to open it. Poe, still in his olive uniform, glanced at the general before he walked straight past her and pulled you close, your arms immediately wrapped around his neck. He dropped his head onto your shoulder and held you tightly, you buried your face into the material of his uniform. You sniffled, he knew how difficult it was for you to talk about your mother. You struggled to really open up to him about it, he couldn’t imagine the kind of strength you’d had to muster to tell the entire Galactic Senate. Leia quietly backed out of the room and pulled the door shut behind her, she could only hope the two of you would finally come clean after years of watching you dance around each other. She didn’t claim to have favourite recruits, she’d grown to love the two of you like family. She wanted you to be happy, and if that meant leaving the two of you alone in her office she was more than willing to do just that.

 

“You should tell your mom, she’d be proud of you. Standing up to the senate like that, you were so beautiful. Still are, you always have been.” He muttered into your shoulder, detaching one hand from your waist to stroke your hair. You shuddered out a breath and pulled back to look at him. You searched his dark eyes, finding nothing but sincerity and admiration and that softness you could never quite name. Only you knew what it was now. That was love, in his eyes.

 ** _“I have loved you so much, for so long.”_** You whispered, your faces barely an inch apart.

“I know, I love you too.” He breathed, wasting no time in pressing his lips against yours. He was soft, at first, giving you all the time you needed to settle into it. His hand slipped back down to your waist as your fingers curled in his hair, you didn’t even notice you were moving until your back met the wall. His tongue swiped your bottom lip and you didn’t hesitate to let him in, exploring his mouth as he did yours. Your body was on autopilot, tugging on his curls and pulling him even closer to you. You’d kissed people before, but never like this. You’d never let yourself imagine what it would be like to kiss Poe, but you knew anything you had dreamt up would have paled in comparison to the real thing. You had to pull away to catch your breath, but you kept him close to you. He made no attempt to move, enjoying this newfound closeness as much as you were, and pressed a kiss to your temple. You knew you were going to be okay, no matter what happened, as long as Poe was by your side.


	5. Whispered Peace (Rey)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> RP 56: “You’ve gone all protective again, something you want to tell me?”  
> Request from Anon: Prompt: Rey x fem/reader 56. You’ve gone all protective again, something you want to tell me?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I know this has been a bit slow but in my defence my inbox is suddenly very full and the first part of my dissertation for my degree was due in today and those 10,000 words genuinely almost murdered me (I stg I’ll be dreaming about the influence of the LGBT community on modern and classical literature for the next 10,000 years)- also this is kind of short and it ends way more angsty than I meant it to but idk I kind of like it?  
> Coming fics: 3 x Hux/Reader, 1 x Rey/Reader, 1 x Poe/Reader
> 
> Title Inspiration: Hope, Emily Jane Bronte, "Still, in strife, she whispered peace;" (line 10)

Lightning cracked the dark sky overhead as the rain continued relentlessly. You pushed the dripping hair out of your eyes, pulling your hood further over your head. The cavern was only another few minutes’ walk away, but the darkness of the night and the weather combined made it seem like hours. You kept your eyes ahead, but your ears strained for any foreign sound, anything that might indicate you were being followed. Though between the thunder, rain, and your own footsteps you doubted you would be able to tell. Nothing you wore was waterproof, the thick wool of the cape growing heavier and heavier the longer you were out in the open. There had been no sign of the storm when the Falcon had landed, orange skies for miles and not a cloud in sight. General Organa had a contact in a city on one of the Outer Rim moons, and so that was the first stop on the list after narrowly escaping from Crait. You hadn’t been able to help much in the battle, so your hand was the first up when she asked for a volunteer to rendezvous with her contact. It was too risky to take the Falcon too close to the city, the ship was just too recognisable. So you’d been sent on foot, swapping your navy blue engineering jumpsuit for dark clothes and a cloak. Rey’s cloak, more specifically. She’d insisted you take it, not completely trusting the apparently pleasant weather they’d landed in, and told you it was better to be safe than sorry. You smiled to yourself in the dark; she was like no one you’d ever met.

Your introduction had been a quick one, back at the D’Qar base after the Starkiller battle, but she hadn’t failed to make an impression on you. It was something in her eyes, you’d eventually decided. Most people didn’t give you a second glance in your engineering blue, but Rey had looked at you with a smile so bright it rivalled the D’Qar sun. You blushed just thinking about the moment. She had that effect on you, even the slightest glance your way had you turning beet red. You didn’t have much of a chance to get to know her then, but since Crait you’d had more than enough time. Life or death situations tend to bring people together like that. You’d bonded over mechanics and engineering, more often than not you slipped into a daydream while she chattered away about the Falcon’s engine.

Your sudden closeness to the young Jedi hadn’t gone unnoticed by everybody on the little freighter. Finn had pulled you aside before you set out to meet Leia’s contact not long after landing on this moon.

“So, Rey?” He hadn’t been able to hide the smirk, and you watched it turn into a triumphant grin when you refused to answer. You never intended to fall for her, especially in such a short time, but she had this magnetism. You couldn’t not enjoy her company, you couldn’t not get lost in her eyes. You’d squashed the childish crush down as soon as you realised how quickly it was growing. But suddenly it wasn’t a just a childish crush. Suddenly, you found your mind wandering to distant futures with her. This was not the time to be developing feelings for anybody, you were in the middle of a war. The idea amazed you, regardless. You couldn’t imagine taking on all of your Resistance responsibilities and making time for a relationship simultaneously, although Finn and Poe managed to make it work somehow.

You stumbled through the mouth of the cave, a heavy breath escaped your lips as the rain stopped pelting against your body. You were immediately engulfed in a hug, held tightly to a warm body despite your soaked clothes. Rey. She leaned back, keeping her hands on your shoulders, and studied your face for a moment before pulling you back into her. The initial shock at the contact had finally worn off and you wrapped your own arms around her just as urgently. You weren’t sure, but you could have sworn her heartbeat sped up at your touch. You shook off the idea, it was ridiculous. She was just happy to see you back, that had to have been it.

“I couldn’t see you, I- I thought something might have happened.” She finally let you go, but kept an arm firmly around your shoulders as the two of you walked through the cave system to the Falcon. You grinned, shrugging. You didn’t trust your voice, the surprise at her statement would have made your words tremble so you kept quiet. You just leaned a little further into her and nudged her hip with yours.

The Resistance, or what was left of it, had set up camp inside the hollow they’d landed in. The Falcon was nestled in the far corner, recruits in various coloured uniforms carried supplies to and from the ship. Someone had made a bonfire in the centre of the cavern, the smoke wafting up through a tiny hole in the roof. Blankets and sheets were stretched out across branches and poles to create makeshift tents. Everyone had grabbed whatever supplies they could carry from the old base at Crait, no one knew how long it would be until you found a new base. You had to make do, and right now this cave was the best option. The faint sound of rain bounced off the rocky walls, the whole space seemed strangely calm considering everything that had happened in the last few days. You shrugged off the cloak and draped it over a nearby boulder, shooting Rey a grateful smile. The rest of the evening was spent sitting cross-legged in the dirt and laughing around the bonfire, everyone taking a much-needed break. Even General Organa seemed relaxed despite the situation. Eventually, people began to head to bed, curling up on jackets and spare blankets underneath the improvised tents set along the far wall. Midway through listening to one of Poe’s pilot stories, you felt yourself starting to doze off as your eyelids grew heavier. You slumped against Rey, sitting to your left, and smiled when you realised her arm hadn’t left your shoulders since you’d returned from your mission.

Something clattered from somewhere behind you, rudely jerking you out of your sleep. The warm body beside yours shifted and you sat up, eyes still firmly closed. You sighed, finally forcing your eyes open, and found yourself staring into the dying embers of the fire. Finn and Poe, on your right-hand side, were curled up in the dirt and still snoring. Finn stirred, but didn’t wake, and pulled Poe’s arm tighter around him. Those boys were so in love even in their sleep. It sent a twinge of envy through your chest, you wanted something like that. If you were being honest, you wanted something like that with Rey. It wasn’t something you could deny anymore. You glanced around the cavern, spotting 3 shadows huddled together by the Falcon, and rolled your shoulders. You dragged yourself to your feet and made your way over to the group.

General Organa, Rey, and Rose were all whispering among themselves, in such an intense debate that they didn’t even notice your presence until you cleared your throat. Rey’s furrowed eyebrows immediately softened at the sight of you, and she shot a pointed look at Leia. Rose grinned at you and you ruffled her hair as you always did. The two of you had trained as mechanics together before you’d turned to engineering. You turned your gaze to the general, still smiling, and you were met with a sober expression. She frowned and looked between the three of you for a moment before speaking.

“I need you to go out again, it’s more of a recon mission this time.” Leia kept her voice low, so as not to wake any of the recruits with the echo of her words. You nodded, understanding why she was choosing you again. You’d already been into the city, no one would question your presence had they seen you earlier that day. Rey’s hand darted out to catch your arm, sliding down and linking your fingers tightly in hers. She was already shaking her head.

“No,” Rey said through gritted teeth, “You can’t send her out again, General. It’s too dangerous.”

Your lips dropped into a disapproving frown as you turned to her, eyes hard.

“ ** _You’ve gone all protective again, something you want to tell me?_** ” You didn’t mean for the words to come out so biting, but they were harsh in the night-time silence. Rey’s cheeks flashed red and she stumbled over her words. She dropped your hand like it had bitten her, and her gaze was suddenly very focused on a rock beside her feet. You nodded at the general, ruffling Rose’s hair again before you walked towards the cave entrance without another word to Rey.

She watched you go, her heart heavy as it cracked in her chest. She didn’t mean to dismiss you like that, she knew you were more than capable of handling yourself out there. But you didn’t have to risk yourself, she’d never felt so connected to anyone before and she wasn’t about to let you walk straight into danger. The guilt began to eat away at her, you thought she doubted you. She knew you now assumed she didn’t think you were able to look after yourself. She only watched as you walked away from her. You paused at her cloak, still lying draped over the boulder, but you continued without picking it up. You could feel her gaze heavy on your back, but you didn’t turn to look at her. You didn’t look at her so you didn’t see the way her shoulders slump, or the way she shot a sad glance at the other two women before trudging into a far corner of the cave to spend the rest of the night alone. Alone and worried about you, reaching out to you through the force and praying you made it back safely.


	6. What I Was Before (Hux)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Request from @sdavid09: Oh my goodness! I just saw your prompt list and I had to ask, it is just too perfect! Could you do prompt 20, “Could you at least hold my hand?” with General Hux??? Cause that is just too amazing and cute of a prompt, I can’t let that one slip by ˄˄

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This is mega short like I literally wrote half of this in class and the other half 1 handed whilst eating a pot noodle bc student life
> 
> Title Inspiration: The Eye-Mote, Sylvia Plath,   
> "What I want back is what I was  
> Before the bed, before the knife," (lines 25+26)
> 
> You can find my prompt lines post here: https://fictional-brainfarts.tumblr.com/post/170975449809/prompt-lines

You’d never thought about what it might be like to get shot. Being assigned as a personal guard, you were rarely called out onto the battlefield. Yet, here you were, in the smoke and flames in some desolate village. You couldn’t remember the planet’s name, you could barely even think straight with the searing pain in your right leg. You hadn’t spotted the Resistance member in time and her blaster bolt had shattered your kneecap, you were sure it was broken at the very least. That meant weeks, if not months, of surgeries and physiotherapy until you could walk properly again. That meant weeks, if not months, of someone else taking your place beside him. If they even thought to come back for you, regular Stormtroopers were usually left for dead in the field if they fell regardless of whether they could live with their injuries.

You still couldn’t quite understand why you’d been assigned to General Hux’s personal guard, a position handed to you immediately after you graduated the training academy. You could hold your own in a fight and you were a decent shot, but you never excelled at anything particularly. Other troopers in your guard squad told you Hux was fascinated by you, that he was the reason you were promoted to Captain, but the idea was ridiculous. Your thoughts drifted to the redheaded officer as you lay bleeding in the mud. You’d never seen the man smile, but you imagined it was the kind of smile that lit up the galaxy. Your daydreaming was abruptly interrupted by a voice calling your name through the smoke. It was one of your secondaries, he stumbled over the lifeless body of the Resistance member who shot you as he entered the clearing and immediately dropped to his knees beside you.

“General’s orders, Cap.” He said simply as he pulled you upright and you leant against him. The two of you hobbled back to the transport you’d arrived in. He settled you on a steel bench that ran along the far side of the ship, and you winced as he accidentally brushed against your knee.

You were the first rushed off of the shuttle as soon as it docked on the Finaliser, suddenly surrounded by a team of medics as they half-carried you to a trolley. You spotted General Hux across the room, his dark uniform stood out against the flurry of white Stormtrooper armour. Part of you hoped he’d catch your eye, but he was deep in conversation with an inferior officer so you turned to try and focus on the instructions that the doctor was giving you.

By the time Hux had finished berating the young sergeant for his strategy, you’d been wheeled off by the best team of doctors the First Order could provide. He’d almost lost his cool on the bridge when your code had flashed up on one of the monitors, indicating you’d been wounded. He snapped at an officer to his left, ordering for your team to bring you back in regardless. He didn’t care about regulations or standard procedure, he wasn’t letting you die by rebel hands in some forgotten city.

He never meant to fall for you, you were the head of his personal guard. It wasn’t appropriate, and Armitage Hux was nothing if not a professional. There was something about you, something that made him want to break the rules. He was fascinated by your leadership, the way you could command your team with a simple look. He could have watched you train for hours, how you were hard in your strikes but fluid in your movements. You reminded him of water, it’s violence and beauty. And by Force, did he want to drown in it.

It was protocol when meeting with their seniors, that all troopers in personal guard forces remove their helmets as a standard check for infiltrators. He’d been taken aback, for a moment, when you’d first arrived at his office with your helmet tucked under your arm. You weren’t initially heading up his guard force, but your commander had sent you ahead to collect the general. He hadn’t been the only one left speechless by that first glance. It had taken you a second to remember your orders, as Hux’s pale eyes pierced your own, and you stuttered out an explanation. He’d stayed quiet, nodding, and followed you out of the room without a word. He kept a close eye on you after that initial meeting, something that hadn’t gone unnoticed by your team members.

You were sparring with your secondary officer when Hux first saw you fight. Wooden poles as thick as your wrist clashed together in the ring. Your feet were bound in black bandages and you kicked up sand as you perfected your footwork. He stood on a raised walkway, overlooking the training rings until you were finished, his jaw on the floor. He’d never seen anyone move with such grace but such power before. You were one to be reckoned with, he knew that for sure.

Your surgery had taken longer than expected, the doctors working for hours to try and salvage what they could of your kneecap. The pain medication they were pumping into your body had reduced the agony to a dull ache but you refused to look at it, you didn’t want to see the damage. You knew there was a slim chance you’d ever be able to walk again, you didn’t need to know how bad it was to work that out. The proof was evident in the worried looks of the nurses who came to check your vitals every hour. Your head was left fuzzy, your thoughts flowing out of your mouth before you could stop them, either from the medication or the blood loss. The mechanical sound of the door sliding open pulled you from your messy thoughts, and you found yourself faced with the one person you didn’t think would ever come to visit you.

“How are you feeling?” Hux kept his posture rigid, gloved hands clasped behind his back while he fought the urge to run to your bedside. He remained stood at the foot of it, eyes trailing your body for any other wounds. Anger surged through you and you couldn’t stop yourself, the pain medication had broken all of your professional barriers.

“How am I feeling?” You repeated incredulously, and his eyes widened, “I get dragged out of a village I was certain I’d die in, on your orders. I get poked and prodded with needles and electrodes for hours before they take me into surgery, on your orders. Is there any part of my life you don’t exercise complete control over? You couldn’t even let me die on my own terms!”

Hux stepped back, staring at you like you’d slapped him. He knew you would be upset, but he didn’t think you’d be angry at him for saving your life. He was floored by your bravery, any other person on this ship would have cowered at the sight of him. You’d shouted at him, and he wasn’t afraid to admit he was a little impressed. Even if it was just the medication talking. He was so deep in his thoughts that he almost missed what you said next, the words so quiet he was sure they weren’t meant for him.

“I’ll never walk again,” you mumbled, “Will I?” Your fiery gaze turned to one of anguish as tears began to swim in your vision. He moved silently to stand beside you, trailing a finger along the sheets beside your arm. He didn’t touch you, but the action made you wonder if he wanted to.

“We’ll build the mechanics into your armour, brace your leg properly, I’ll oversee it myself. Is there anything you need in the meantime?” His voice was softer, careful. His fingers drew invisible patterns on the bed next to your hand. Still not touching, but coming so close he could feel the heat of your skin on his. You didn’t want to ask, but you needed something. In this moment, you needed that contact.

**_“Could you at least hold my hand?”_ **

It was barely a whisper, you weren’t sure if you’d said the words out loud at all, but the cold fingers that intertwined with yours proved differently. You’d never expected him to do it, you’d expected to be told that you should rest. That he’d send someone to check on you soon. Not that he’d pull your hand into his so quickly. You dared a glance up at him as the first fearful tear slid down your cheek, making no effort to wipe it away. He sighed heavily, a hint of a sad smile turning up the corners of his lips. You knew he meant it, he’d make sure you could get back to where you were before. He wouldn’t rest until you were back to where you belonged, by his side.


	7. Knew You In The Dark (Hux)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> RP 52: “Do I make you nervous?”  
> RP 60: “When did we start lying to each other?”
> 
> Request from @xavierwoodsxkofikingston: 60. hux/reader please?  
> Request from anon: 52 and 60, Hux, because I'm a filthy, filthy sinner.
> 
> Title Inspiration: Strange Meeting, Wilfred Owen, “I knew you in this dark: for so you frowned” (line 41)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m very conflicted when it comes to Hux bc on the one hand he’s a space fascist and on the other hand I can’t not support my fellow ginger. Actual words I said out loud when I finished this were “ooh that hurt okay” so prepare urselves

“Head back to base, Skipper, I’ll catch up.” You shouted over the roar of the transport’s engines as you helped the last injured solider hobble towards the medical crew on board. The dark eyed lieutenant hesitated for a long moment, her feet shifting on the edge of the transport. You raised an eyebrow and silently challenged her to disobey you. She nodded, golden curls bouncing on her shoulders, and turned back to head to the cockpit. She was a sweet kid, but desperate to prove herself as a fighter. You didn’t want her to make any snap decisions and get caught in the crossfire of any Stormtroopers still lurking around.

 

You couldn’t blame her for wanting to earn her place in the Resistance, she had the same fire in her eyes as you had when you’d first joined. Although Skipper had less opposition when she arrived. Raised by two Rebel Alliance veterans, her upbringing was more typical of a Resistance member. Despite giving the last 3 years of your life to the cause, some officers still eyed you with suspicion but it was something you’d learned to deal with. You shrugged off the narrow-eyed glances and mutterings behind your back, their doubt had stopped affecting you a long time ago. General Organa trusted you, regardless of where you came from, and that was enough for you. She didn’t care about your past with the First Order, and for that you were grateful. She could have killed you where you stood when you’d first shown up at her base, she was more than ready to, but something had stopped her. She knew you were telling the truth, you’d been blinded by loyalty and you wanted to make things right. You wanted to help the people whose lives you’d had a hand in ruining, you wanted to stare your mistakes in the face and fix them.

 

Debris crunched under your boots as you searched the battlefield for survivors, the smoke that hung in the air made your eyes water but you trudged through the ruined city streets anyway. He was here, you could feel it. You weren’t particularly strong with the Force, it was more an afterthought in the back of your mind than something you could use to your advantage. You’d declined every chance the First Order had given you to train and strengthen your abilities, eventually they stopped asking. Looking back on it, you realised you’d never wanted them to make a weapon out of you. You didn’t want Snoke to mould your mind as he had done Kylo Ren’s. You knew the first thing the Supreme Leader would have taken from you was him, and you would have sooner died than let that happen. You shook him from your mind, those blue eyes that you were sure would set a fire in you even now. Even after 3 years, after you abandoned and betrayed him. You’d been so wrapped up in your thoughts that you found yourself wandering a part of the city left untouched by the battle. It was eerily quiet, buildings long since abandoned by the likely now dead inhabitants, and your hand strayed to the blaster attached to your hip.

Another set of footsteps crunched through the rubble and in a split second your blaster was raised towards the noise. Hux emerged from around the corner, stumbling when he turned his gaze to you. You felt his heartbeat stutter, and ignored yours as it copied his own. His expression remained steady, giving you no indication to what he was about to do. The two of you just stood there, staring at each other, as you worked out what to do next. His heartbeat was so loud in your mind you weren’t sure it was the Force at all, but that the hammering in his chest was echoing around the square.

 

 ** _“Do I make you nervous?”_** Your voice bounced off the crumbling walls around you, and a tiny twinge of guilt settled in your stomach as he registered the words. It was cruel, using the memory of your first encounter against him, but you couldn’t bite back your thoughts. His eyes darted around the old town square, settling anywhere and everywhere except you. He couldn’t take it; he couldn’t look at you without feeling his heart break yet again. He couldn’t bring himself to watch you standing there, blaster aimed between his eyes, and know you wouldn’t hesitate to shoot. Maybe it would be for the best, he thought. It would be no different to falling asleep; he’d died 3 years ago when you left for the Resistance. Your words were empty, cold and mocking, as the both of your minds travelled to the old service elevator aboard the Finalizer.

 

_“Do I make you nervous?” You teased, your voice barely above a whisper. You’d spotted the young Commander looking you up and down in the introductory meeting, but he hadn’t yet worked up the courage to look you directly in the eye. You could feel his pulse quicken in the close proximity of the elevator the second you’d stepped inside, and it only increased as you slowly shuffled closer. With his rigid posture and unforgiving demeanour, you knew he’d rise through the ranks quickly. Hell, he was already a commander and he’d only just been assigned to a ship. He didn’t answer, he didn’t move, as you stepped closer to him in the confined space. It wasn’t until you stood directly in front of him, faces barely an inch apart, that he shifted his gaze to lock with yours. A smirk settled on your lips as you heard his breath catch, as he cleared his throat in an attempt to cover it. The elevator doors slid open behind you and, after a long moment, you turned to leave._

That elevator had served as a private meeting place for the two of you for months. Staring contests had turned to hushed conversations, turned to light kisses, turned to hot and heavy make-out sessions between floors. It hadn’t taken long for these elevator meetings to emigrate to one of your bedrooms, the itchy grey wool of the First Order uniforms swiftly replaced by silk sheets and sweat soaked skin. Commands barked at each other on the bridge became breathy moans and whimpers as your bodies moved together. You’d loved him, there was no doubt about that. You loved him and he would have burned the galaxy for you, if you’d asked. The two of you were unstoppable, until you were sent into the field. It was one mission, one night, but it opened your eyes. The devastation of that village, the smoke and ash that hung in the air, changed your mind for good.

 

_“I can’t do it. I won’t.” You mumbled, tears already streaming down your cheeks. You didn’t miss the sharp intake of breath. Armitage stood up, leaving you sat alone on the edge of your shared bed, and folded his arms. It wasn’t the first time you’d had this argument. Your faith in the First Order had long since been replaced by your faith in the man stood before you. As long as you had him, you’d have done anything. Only now you weren’t sure that was enough._

_“Sweetheart,” He started, but you weren’t listening. You couldn’t stop replaying the death and destruction over and over again in your mind._

_“I’ve never seen it before, what we do. All those lives just – I can’t do it. I have to go, I have to leave.” You shuddered out a breath and dropped your head into your hands. As if that would make it all go away. He knelt in front of you and pulled your hands away from your face. Any other officer on the ship would have argued that General Hux didn’t have a heart, had your red-rimmed eyes and shaky confession not broken it in two._

He’d quietly organised a small transport shuttle to drop you on a nearby planet that night, ignoring the pain in his chest as he watched you board it. You didn’t look back, you hadn’t laid eyes on him since that night 3 years ago. And here he was, standing in front of you, in the middle of the destruction you were running from.

“You could come back, you’d be more than welcome.” He offered, hands clasped tightly in front of him. He didn’t dare move them, he didn’t want you to see how they would tremble. He knew they would, they always did when he thought of you; seeing you in the flesh, he wasn’t sure what he would do.

“Back to what? Murdering entire planets? You slaughter children in their beds and call it sacrifice. I love you but I won’t be party to that, Arms.” The confession and his old nickname rolled off your tongue before you could stop it. You clamped your mouth shut, afraid of his response. He stood silently for a long moment, and you could almost see the cogs in his head turning as he processed your words.

 ** _“When did we start lying to each other?”_** He sighed, and if you didn’t know better you could have sworn there were tears in his eyes. You opened your mouth to respond, but your mind failed you. What else could you say?

“If you love me, why would you leave? Why would you fight against me, why would you do that?” He trailed off, more mumbling to himself than speaking to you, and you started to back away. You holstered your blaster, you’d forgotten you’d even drawn it, and turned away from him. Every fibre of your being screamed at you to run to him, to hold him and never let go, but you ignored them all. You had a duty, as he did, and so you left him in that crumbling town square. You left him and your shattered heart among the debris, and made your way back through the winding streets to the last transport. You didn’t let the tears fall until you collapsed onto your bunk back at base, and cried yourself to sleep for the man you loved. A man who wore the wrong uniform.


	8. Whispered Peace Part 2 (Rey)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 2 to Chapter 5: Whispered Peace (Rey)
> 
> RP 35: “Don’t you dare leave me.”  
> RP 39: “Next time you make me think you’re dead you better be.”  
> Request from anon: “Can you do 35 and 39 with Rey?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m so sorry I’ve been gone for like a week, my little brother was in an accident so obviously he had to come first, but he’s doing better so I’m back :) A couple of people wanted a part 2 to Whispered Peace and while I initially wrote it as a stand-alone piece I thought about making a second part and realised these lines fit into where I wanted to take it and here we are :) hope you like it and IM SORRY ITS SO SHORT

 This was not the time for your comlink to die. Sprinting through the winding city streets and alleyways, you dodged debris and blaster bolts as you tried desperately to lose the 8 Stormtroopers currently on your tail. A galaxy-wide warrant had been put out for the arrest of anyone suspected to be involved with the Resistance after the battle on Crait, everyone had expected as much. What you hadn’t expected, however, was to find Leia’s contact lying dead in the city square, minus his head. You didn’t stick around long enough to find out what happened to it, you span on your heel and tried not to attract attention as you hurried back the way you came. You almost made it. You were almost there, until one market vendor pointed you out to a passing trooper. You didn’t speak the native language, but you understood enough to know he’d seen you with the man now known to be a rebel sympathiser. You took off running as fast as your legs could carry you, through the unfamiliar streets and deeper into the city. You couldn’t risk going back to where your friends waited; you wouldn’t risk the survival of the Resistance on the off-chance you could run faster than a Stormtrooper. The comlink crackled to life in your cold hands and you fumbled for the button, yelling into it as you ducked around a sharp corner.

 

“City’s compromised, Pastle’s dead. You need to go!” Your voice echoed off the stone walls, and the tension in the cavern grew thick. Frantic, panicked gazes exchanged between friends and families, before every eye came to rest on General Organa. Leia took a moment, ignoring the expectant stares of her troops, and turned to Rey. The general’s heart almost broke at the fear in the young Jedi’s eyes, so afraid of losing what had yet to become.

 

“Take Finn and Poe, find her, and get out. Do not engage.” Her tone was stern, but soft. She understood what it was like to have someone you love in the line of fire. She wasn’t about to lose one of her best engineers at the hands of the First Order, but she couldn’t leave room for anyone to be making stupid decisions. Rey nodded, swallowing her fear, and grabbed the two men by the collars. There was no time to waste, she was coming to get you. Rey closed her eyes, connecting to the Force, and reached out to find you She sifted through the minds that raced past her, until she heard the one voice that mattered. She zeroed in on it and took off running towards you, not checking behind her to see if Finn and Poe were following her. She had to get to you. The three of them sprinted through the streets, deftly hopping over debris and clutter from the Stormtrooper’s raid, and prayed you’d be around the next corner.

 

A hand shot out of a gap in the stone, grabbing Rey’s arm, and Finn almost crashed into his friends when they stopped abruptly.

“What the hell are you doing? I told Leia to go!” You said harshly, eyes darting around as you searched for any straggling troopers. She said nothing, only pulled you into a tight hug and whispered apologies into your shoulder. You didn’t care about what she’d said to you earlier, that she’d doubted you. You only cared that she was here, that she wanted you around enough to come back for you even after you’d told them to go. You pulled back, tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, and realised it wasn’t just a childish crush: you’d fight and you’d die for the woman in front of you. Finn clapped a hand on your shoulder and you turned, albeit reluctantly, to face his bright smile. However, reunions were cut short as the tell-tale marching echoed off the towering walls. You drew your blaster and nodded for the others to lead the way out, Rey keeping a firm grip on your hand.

 

You started to recognise some of the streets as you got closer to the city centre, able to pinpoint where it was you’d met with Pastle only hours beforehand, but the odd tranquillity didn’t last long. A group of Stormtroopers rounded a corner, and the four of you ran in the opposite direction. You came to a fork in the street, and your eyes darted frantically between your friends.

“We’ll split up, regroup at the Falcon!” Poe shouted orders over the roaring blaster fire behind them and you nodded, moving to follow him. A tug on your left arm reminded you that you were still clinging onto Rey, and she didn’t seem to want to let go any time soon.

 ** _“Don’t you dare leave me.”_** She mumbled, pulling you after her as she turned into the second side street. You didn’t hesitate, only nodded, and fired shots behind your shoulder as you tried to stay vertical. She was fast, you’d give her that. The heavy footfalls of the Stormtroopers faded and for a second you were sure you’d lost them, just a second.

 

The apparent freedom didn’t last long as a wall of the troopers blocked the street Rey tried to drag you down. You spun around to run the other way, but the squadron that had been tailing you finally caught up. The two of you were trapped. You wriggled your hand out of Rey’s grip and drew the smaller blaster you had strapped to your thigh. She rested her palm on your cheek for a split second, before swinging the blaster she had slung on her back into attack position. Another moment of stillness, an eerie quiet, before chaos erupted in the narrow side street. Flashes of white, black, and red filled your vision as you shot your way through an endless stream of First Order soldiers. You kept an eye out for Rey, her dark hair made her stand out against the sea of white helmets, but you couldn’t see her. You panicked, filled with a new energy, and started taking down troopers left and right faster than you ever had before. You had to get to Rey, you had to find her. A hand closed around your wrist, warm and rough. You couldn’t hear anything over the sound of the fight, but you’d long since passed the point of needing words to communicate with Finn. You didn’t want to leave Rey, you couldn’t. If she’d gone down, you had to bring her back. Your feet were stuck to the dusty cobblestones beneath them for another second before you gave in, letting Finn drag you down another few alleyways until the city streets opened up to barren desert once more. You’d been so close, so close and she hadn’t made it. You hesitated at the foot of the Falcon’s bay door, and tears filled your eyes as you looked back at the city.

“We have to go now!” Finn had to shout in your ear to be heard over the screeching engines. Rose called your name from the top of the ramp and you forced your feet to move. You let Finn lead you onto the Falcon and settled in a corner, far from anybody else, to let the tears fall. You pulled your legs up to your chest and buried your face in your knees. You’d failed her. She told you not to leave her, but that’s exactly what you’d done. The guilt washed over you and you curled even tighter into yourself. Finn didn’t know, he couldn’t have known. He would never have let them leave the planet without his best friend, but he’d pulled you onto the Falcon without hesitation so he can’t have known. He was probably looking for her right now, searching for his best friend that you’d left behind.

 

A frantic voice calling your name pulled you out of your thoughts and you glanced up, red rimmed eyes meeting a gaze you thought you’d never see again. You were sure you’d never moved faster in your life, jumping up from your crouched position and into Rey’s arms. You hugged her tightly, shaking a little as you choked back the relieved tears that replaced the grief.

 ** _“Next time you make me think you’re dead, you better be.”_** You mumbled into her shoulder, and you had to hold back a whine of protest when she pulled back to look at you. She rested her hands on your cheeks, your arms were still wound tightly around her waist, and looked you dead in the eyes. The breath caught in your throat at the unexpected intimacy of the eye contact. There was something behind that look, something you were afraid to admit was there.

“I think I like you too much to do that.” She whispered, closing the gap between your lips.


	9. Awake (Hux)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 7: “What’s that supposed to mean?”
> 
> Request from anon: can you do a hux x reader with prompt 7? :) and maybe they're in an established relationship

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I initially wrote this when I was mad at my boyfriend and then went back and edited when I was less mad, which was definitely a good idea bc pre-edit it was just 1000 words of argument and a badly written angst fest which was Not Fun

“We don’t need you on this one, Phasma can handle it.” Hux sighed, folding his arms as he tried to gauge your reaction. You were always frustratingly stoic when the two of you argued, especially when it came to strategies. While he loved how ruthless you could be, he hated that you insisted on being on the front lines for every damn battle. He wanted to keep you safe, and having you face the Resistance head on wasn’t helping.

“Need I remind you, General,” You spat out his title, “That you can’t pull rank on an equal.”

 

He didn’t need reminding of your recent promotion. The celebrations in your shared quarters from the previous night were still fresh in his mind. The marks were still fresh on both of your bodies; the bruises you’d both left behind were still tender. There was something about promotions, victories, new battle strategies that made you hungry for one another. Although he’d be lying if he said there was a time when he didn’t want to rip your heavy uniform off and take you wherever you were. From the first day you’d stepped onto the bridge, the young officer with an attraction for trouble, he knew he’d be head over heels in no time. You ignited a fire in him, the kind of love that had no place in war. He would have done anything for you. He used to think he lived for the First Order, but he knew in his heart that if you left he wouldn’t hesitate to follow. You could have made him do terrible things, but you’d never ask. You didn’t need him to, you could do them your damn self.

 

“There’s no point putting yourself in harm’s way for no reason.” He regretted the words as soon as they came out of his mouth. Rage flashed in your eyes and he thought he might melt in the heat of your gaze.

“No reason? My team is going out there, so I am too.” Your voice grew louder with every word; you didn’t care about reputation anymore. You couldn’t stand anybody questioning your abilities, and you never expected the man you loved to doubt you so much. He visibly gulped and took a step back. He had expected you to be angry, but you’d never raised your voice at him. Shouting wasn’t something either of you were fond of, you preferred to discuss your disagreements like adults, but lately your behaviour had been catching him off guard. You were unpredictable, one second you’d be calmly chatting to a colleague and the next you were firing a warning shot above the head of a trooper who’d stood too close to you. He took in your appearance for a moment, drinking in the subtle changes he hadn’t noticed in the last few weeks.

 

Dark circles had made their home underneath your usually bright eyes, your cheeks had sunken in and your jaw seemed more angular. Your shoulders slumped forward where you were usually rigid in your posture, and he’d noted on more than one occasion that you appeared to struggle for breath even whilst standing still. The stress had clearly been taking its toll on you for a lot longer than just the last month or so.

“You don’t look well. When did you last eat, sweetheart?” It was barely a whisper, his vain attempt to pull the volume back down to where he was comfortable. Back down to where you could both keep a clear head, and there were no chances of anyone hearing.

“I ate this morning; don’t change the subject, Armitage. I’m fine, and I’m going on this mission because it’s my job, end of discussion.” You said forcefully, pushing past him on your way to the door. He caught your arm as you went, but you didn’t turn to face him.

“You’re not fine. Don’t let your pride get in the way of safety, or practicality for that matter.” He was grateful you’d refused to look at him; he didn’t want you to see him flinch as he said the harsh words. He knew he was right, as did you, but he hated speaking to you like you were just another officer. Even the orders he gave you were softer than the tone he used with anybody else, he’d been like that ever since you first started working underneath him. The way he seemed to relax in your presence, how the tiniest proud smile found its way onto his face every time you were promoted; even before he’d done anything to act on his feelings.

 ** _“What’s that supposed to mean?”_** You hissed, spinning on your heel to face him. He didn’t respond, just stared at you blankly, and you stormed out with an exasperated sigh. You didn’t bother looking back as the door slid shut behind you, feeling his eyes boring a hole in the back of your head. You admitted you hadn’t been feeling fantastic for the last few months, but with all the work surrounding your promotion and the negotiation mission you’d expected to feel the stress of it all.

 

Captain Phasma was waiting by the transport for you when you arrived in the hangar, but she seemed almost surprised to see you. Your team, on the other hand, raised their hands in salute and immediately made room for you on the bench beside them. You were grateful that you’d been allowed to stay with the group, you’d been with the 4 troopers since training. They were a comfort to you even on missions like these, acting as security detail. You nodded to Phasma when she entered, and you were sure her salute was formality only. She never had liked you very much, you knew she thought you were too friendly with your troopers. She strode past you and straight towards the cockpit, and you shrugged. Your vision faded for a second and you grabbed the bench beneath you to stay steady, knuckles turning white with the strength of your grip. That had been happening a lot lately, you put it down to lack of sleep.

 

A few hours later, the transport docked inside a luxury cruiser. You’d seen ships like it before but, even with your high ranking within the First Order, you’d never been inside anything close. It was garish, red and gold silk adorned every surface, sculptures and art hung on every wall. The brightness of the ship almost blinded you, and suddenly you found yourself grateful for the understated interior decorating of the First Order. You disembarked the craft first, not in the mood for a display of force from Phasma and your team, and made your way to greet the senators. The negotiation was simple, a couple of low level senate members were offering their support (under the table, of course) to the First Order. A few hundred troops between them, more funding, and the use of several spacecraft manufacturing facilities in return for titles within the organisation and rewards when the war was won. The senators seemed delighted with the idea of holding rank within the First Order but you knew the titles would only be honorary, if they survived at all. It was more than likely they’d be killed shortly after the war was won anyway, if promised titles was all it took to organise more forces and build more ships, so be it. Three hours later, discussions were finally at a close and you were on your way back to the transport. You took one last look at the tacky décor, finding yourself missing the shiny black walls of the Finaliser. The glittering gold of the hangar seemed to swim before you, the reflective silver of Phasma’s armour was the last thing you saw before you collapsed.

 

You woke up in your own bed, silk sheets soft against your skin, with the worst headache you’d ever had. A throbbing pain was persistent from your left temple, it must have been from where you hit your head when you fell. It took you another moment, and you would have shot up from the realisation if you didn’t think you’d have been violently sick with the movement. You vaguely remembered going to the negotiation, the golden walls, and then nothing. You’d passed out, and probably cost the First Order the support of the two senators. You opened your eyes, spotting a heart monitor beeping away beside you. The rhythm was steady, reassuring, and you relaxed. A doctor was fiddling with some of the buttons on it, and glanced at you. She immediately pressed a button on the comlink attached to her uniform, and the door slid open less than a minute later.

 

“Oh, thank stars, you’re awake.” Armitage shooed the young doctor out of the room. He went on to explain how you’d passed out, how he’d almost ripped Phasma’s head off when she returned with your unconscious body in her arms. The doctors had determined that stress and extreme exhaustion were to blame, having built up over the last few months. You’d been overworked to the point where your heart almost couldn’t take it, they were surprised your body hadn’t just given up yet. Fear crept into his voice as he tried his best to recount their findings, despite the fact he’d stopped listening after they told him how close you were to a fatal heart attack. To think he’d had a part in doing this to you; he’d been the one to convince you to go for the promotion, and it almost killed you.

 

You lifted your hand to his cheek and he stuttered, eyes finally shifting to meet yours. He’d been crying, not something you ever thought you’d see, and his hair was dishevelled. He was a worried wreck, far from the put-together general you knew. You didn’t say anything, you didn’t need to. You were alive, and that’s all he needed. You’d get better, the doctors had told him as much, and it was safe to say that you’d both be keeping an eye on how much work the other was doing from now on.


	10. Secret Truths (Poe)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> RP 23: “You don’t have to scream it from the rooftops, we get it.”
> 
> Request from anon: 23 for Poe Dameron please :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I’ve loosely based this cutesy conversation on a phone call I had with my boyfriend a couple of weeks ago bc he’s an adorable little shit who can’t handle his alcohol but I'm still not 100% sure so pls let me know what u think

Poe was beside himself as Jess knocked back the shot without flinching. He knew better than to think he could keep up, it was common knowledge around the base that Jessika Pava could drink anyone under the table. You’d tried to convince him not to take her up on the challenge, you didn’t exactly want to have to carry him back to the transport, but it was no use. Once Poe Dameron decided to do something, it would take the end of the galaxy for him not to follow it through. Their friends circled around the table, cheering and laughing, making bets on when their dear Commander would black out. Unfortunately for them, you decided to step in before things got too messy. You’d drawn the short straw at base and you were stuck, sober as anything, flying your rowdy friends back home again.

“I think it’s time to go, don’t you?” Snap clapped a hand onto your shoulder and you nodded, making your way through the crowd that had collected around your friends. Karé appeared at your side and shot you an apologetic glance as you took in the scene in front of you. Poe had dropped his head into his hands while Jess was bowing to the rest of the pilots. You loved the woman like a sister, despite her antics. She turned to you, winking, and immediately engulfed you in a tight hug. You returned the gesture, and rolled your eyes at Snap over her shoulder.

“How about a victory piggyback to the transport for the reigning champion?” Snap cheered, stooping low enough for Jess to jump onto his back. You shook your head and laughed, wondering how many times he was going to drop her on the 5 minute walk to where you’d landed the transport. While he wasn’t quite as far gone as everyone else, Snap still wasn’t as sober as you were. You tapped Poe on the shoulder and he reluctantly raised his head, but managed a half-hearted smile despite his defeat. You held your hand out for him, and lead him out of the cantina. Karé was in charge of the larger transport, and so she stayed behind to rally the rest of the pilots and get them home safely.

The fresh air was welcoming, although it sent a shiver through you after the warmth of the cantina. Poe slung his arm around your shoulders, either to keep you warm or to steady himself, and you giggled as you spotted Snap and Jess further up the street. It was times like these that you almost forgot the war, the easy smiles and laughter hid the grief and terror behind everyone’s eyes. Poe was still pouting beside you, dragging his feet as the two of you slowly made your way up the street. He muttered something under his breath and you nudged his side with your elbow.

“I just can’t believe I lost. Again.” He moped, and dropped his head to watch as your feet moved in unison. You sighed, an amused smile sneaking its way onto your face, and bumped your hip against his.

“It wasn’t that bad.” you reassured him, remembering the last time he’d challenged Jess. The entirety of Black Squadron had ended up on the floor, barely conscious, while she victory danced on the bar.

“But I failed! I was defeated by my own pilot!” He continued to lament, shouts echoing off the sleeping buildings. You laughed and ruffled his hair with your right hand, tightening the grip you had around his waist with your left.

**_“You don’t have to shout it from the rooftops, we get it.”_** You whispered loudly, and gestured to the light that had just switched on in one of the windows that overlooked the street.

He raised his gaze from the floor, with that look in his eyes. It was a look reserved wholly for you, equal parts soft and certain; it never failed to make you weak at the knees. Even though his vision was spinning, you were still in focus. He’d been feeling like that a lot lately, everything at base seemed to be moving 100 miles a minute. Not that he didn’t want to be in the Resistance, but he never knew what was around the corner when it came to fighting. With you he could be sure and in a life filled with questions, he clung onto the one definitive he had. He loved you with everything he was, everything he would ever be, and he’d have torn the stars out of the sky if you asked him to. He’d have hung up his flight suit for good if that was what you wanted, it would break his heart but he’d do it for you. He’d have done anything for you, except ask. Every time he tried, the words got caught in his throat. You’d look at him with those eyes, the eyes he wanted to drown in, and he’d say something else. The chain around his neck burned, as though it was taunting him. Stars, he wanted to ask you. He knew you’d say yes, he was more certain of that than he was of anything else in the galaxy. But it didn’t change the fact he was terrified.

“What’s on your mind, Dameron? You’ve got that grumpy thinking face on again.” You giggled, breath turning to steam in the cold night air. Poe stopped abruptly, settled both of his hands on your shoulders, and stared at you with such intensity you couldn’t look away. The smirk died on your lips as you watched him thinking. The haze of the drinking game evaporated immediately, and your heart fluttered as he kept his eyes firmly on yours. He took a deep breath, and then another, before he finally opened his mouth.

“I love you,” Poe started, “I’ve never loved anyone or anything like I love you. And I’m going to ask you to marry me. I’m too scared right now, but I’ll do it one day. I’m gonna marry you so hard.”

With that, he was gone. Sprinting up the street to where Snap and Jess were skipping up to the transport. You were frozen to the spot as you processed what he’d just told you. Poe Dameron wanted to marry you. The breath that was caught in your throat finally made its way out, and finally your feet moved towards the small transport you’d flown here.

The three of them were already almost asleep by the time you’d prepped the transport for the journey home, a sight that made you smile fondly. Two of your best friends and the love of your life, all snoring in a pile like baby Loth-wolves. You rolled your eyes and turned the comms volume down, chatting to Karé as the two of you flew the squadrons back to the D’Qar base.

You half-dragged Poe back to your shared quarters, desperately trying to quiet his giggles. He’d reached delirium, and that meant that everything was suddenly hilarious. Especially the idea of you carrying him through the halls of the base, apparently. A very sleepy Captain stuck her head out of a door as you passed, and raised an eyebrow at you as you shot her an apologetic smile. She rolled her eyes and let the mechanical door slide shut behind her. You typed the key-code into the pad next to the door as Poe leaned on you, and he practically fell through the door when it finally slid open. He stripped off as he made his way across the small room to the bed, leaving a trail of clothes in his wake until he collapsed on the mattress in his underwear and white t-shirt. You sighed and sat on the bed next to him, spiralling his curls around your little finger. He smiled contentedly and looked at you through closing eyes. He patted the spot on the bed next to him, your usual space that placed him between your body and the wall, and pouted at you. Your eyes rolled automatically, but you settled into the space anyway. His arm immediately wrapped around you, pulling you back into his body and he pressed his face into the back of your neck.

“Thank you,” He sighed, only seconds from dropping off, “But I can’t promise I won’t be sick.”

You stifled a laugh, and shuffled under his grip. You wanted to fall asleep in his arms after the day you’d had, but you knew he wasn’t kidding when he said he might be sick. So, you waited until his breathing slowed, until his shoulders relaxed, and shuffled out of the bed. You slipped your nightclothes on, a soft pair of shorts and an old shirt of Poe’s, and grabbed a set of clothes for the next day from the drawers. Karé’s room was only a corridor down from yours, and she was ready and waiting for you when you knocked on the door. You’d bunked with her initially when you first got to D’Qar, moving to a singular room when you moved in with Poe, and it had led to the closest friendship you’d ever had. She’d been the one to introduce you to Poe, the one to convince you to go after him. She lifted the corner of the blanket when you entered, and let you shuffle into the bunk next to her. You settled down to sleep beside her, the bed only slightly smaller than the one in your quarters, and let exhaustion wash over you and drag you under.

You raised an eyebrow after entering the hangar early the next morning, faced with a sight you didn’t think you’d see until after lunchtime at the earliest. Poe was sitting on a crate beside Black One, frowning at a section on his console as he twiddled a screwdriver between his fingers. There was something on his mind, he never took apart his console otherwise, and you were pretty sure you knew what was bothering him. You sighed and made your way over, waving to a couple of your mechanic friends as you passed them. Poe was so engrossed in his thoughts that he didn’t even hear you come up behind him.

“How’s your head?” You stage-whispered, a cheeky grin on your face. His furrowed brow immediately softened, and he set the console section down on the crate beside him. He pulled you into him and you automatically moved to stand in the space between his knees with your hands on his shoulders. He dropped his head forward against your stomach and wrapped his arms loosely around your hips.

“I woke up alone, but I’m fine.” He mumbled into your sweater, lifting his head ever so slightly to peer up at you. You rolled your eyes and tangled your fingers in his messy curls.

“You were past it, I figured sharing a bed with Karé was more appealing than getting vomited on.” You giggled, and this time it was his turn to roll his eyes. The two of you stayed like that for a long moment, just breathing in the fresh morning air and holding onto each other.

“You sure you’re alright, sweets? You seem a little out of it.” You said, breaking the silence. He stared at you for another minute and, much like last night, you could practically feel him thinking.

“I just can’t remember anything after sitting at that table with Jess, did I do anything disgustingly embarrassing?”

Poe Dameron was a terrible liar. You knew this, and he definitely knew this, but he wasn’t letting up the act. He’d admitted his deepest thoughts to you in that quiet street in the early hours of the morning, and now he was pretending he didn’t remember. You saved him the embarrassment, spared him the blush that had started to creep up his neck, and shook your head. He sighed and dropped his arms from your waist, going back to the console section on the crate beside him. You studied his face, the way his eyebrows creased in the middle, how his dark eyes flitted between wires. He was the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen. He stood up, presumably to get another tool, but froze when you ran your hand absently through his hair. Everything in the hangar, in the galaxy, seemed to stop when your eyes locked. And Poe could feel the question burning in his throat again, clawing its way out, but he couldn’t open his mouth. His mind was screaming the words at you, but his body wouldn’t cooperate. You saw the struggle in his eyes, spared him the pain, and pressed a light kiss to his cheek.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to. But the answer’s yes, if that’s what you’re worried about.” You whispered, and turned away as you heard the young recruits starting to collect themselves by the hangar door. Poe caught your wrist, spun you into his chest, and pulled you into what he intended to be a quick kiss before the two of you got on with your jobs. But everything he intended went out of the window as soon as your lips met. The kiss was soft, but full of everything he couldn’t bring himself to say, and his hands settled on your cheeks. You grinned against his lips, humming contentedly, and tangled your fingers in his hair. Your lungs burned for air, but you ignored their insistence and breathed in everything that was Poe instead. This kiss was a promise, a promise that he’d ask someday and that you’d say yes. He couldn’t believe he’d had any doubts, but all that mattered in this moment was you. You pressed against him, your hands moved to grab fistfuls of his shirt, and both of you forgot where you were. An awkward cough from behind you dragged you from the moment, and you turned to the awaiting recruit as your cheeks flushed.

“Major? We’re ready when you are.” Yaz said, just barely holding back her smirk. You detached yourself from Poe, whose cheeks were just as red as yours, and smoothed down your clothes. You rolled your eyes and slung your arm around the young girl’s shoulders, ignoring all formalities and greeting the friend from your home planet. You started towards the small group collected by the hangar doors, but stopped and turned when you realised Poe wasn’t following.

“Whenever you’re ready, Commander.” You called over your shoulder, an amused grin taking over your features. With your still-flushed cheeks, slightly ruffled hair and bright smile, Poe was sure you’d never looked more beautiful.

“I’m ready.” He muttered under his breath, and he knew. Suddenly, he wasn’t scared anymore. 


	11. A Little Help (Hux)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Request from anon:Can i request some hux x reader where reader complements hux and he gets shy (ha familiar) and kylo notices so he shamelessly tell the reader about hux's crush on her

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve been posting my writing on tumblr for just over a month and im already over 50 followers and my last Poe work was noticed by all my fave blogs so thank you to all of u and I love you :) I’ve also got a few more requests still in progress (including a part 2 to knew you in the dark) so exciting times all round :)
> 
> My tumblr is fictional-spacefarts if you wanted to take a look (although its exactly the same as what's here)

You stood at attention by your desk, awaiting your daily orders. You’d been promoted a month ago, and assigned a desk on the bridge of the Finaliser. You couldn’t believe your luck, getting to work with some of the highest ranking officers within the First Order had been your ambition ever since you joined and now you were a Lieutenant. You’d climbed higher and faster through the First Order ranks than either of your parents ever had within the Empire, and your dedication to the cause had not gone unnoticed. You’d earned a fierce reputation, stopping at nothing to get the job done, and it drew the attention of none other than General Armitage Hux. He treated you differently to the other officers on the bridge, his orders were phrased more like requests. He’d moved you to the desk nearest the front window, nearest to where he stood. You couldn’t help but wonder what he thought of you, whether he was simply rewarding your actions or if there was something behind those pale eyes.

 

“Lieutenant, you’re in the meeting today. Room 2950.” The younger officer’s voice trembled as he gave you the message, and he scurried away before you had a chance to respond. There was only one meeting happening today, and you had no idea why someone of your rank would be invited. You cleared your throat and turned on your heel, boots clicking on the metal floor. You held your head high, a group of Stormtroopers splitting in half as you walked right through the middle of them. People knew to keep out of your way, it came with the territory. You’d heard the whispered rumours about Hux’s behaviour towards you, but paid them no mind. He was simply giving credit where credit was due. Your mind started to wander along the train of thought, the cold General that watched you when he thought you weren’t looking. Maybe he believed you were after his job, maybe he’d thought that treating you well would deter you from taking a higher rank. You shook the idea from your mind and straightened your already immaculate uniform before you pushed the door open to room 2950.

 

“Lieutenant, how kind of you to grace us with your presence.” Captain Phasma’s helmet distorted her voice, but you still heard the clear annoyance there. You knew she didn’t believe you should be held in such high regard, that a Lieutenant wasn’t worthy of invitation to such meetings. You saluted, and stood to attention as the door slid shut behind you.

“Apologies Captain, I didn’t know I was supposed to be here until I started my shift.” You replied curtly, moving towards the large conference table as she did. You nodded at the other officers that had been called in, and moved towards the last unoccupied seat. Phasma removed her helmet and placed it on the table, her steely gaze met yours across the room as the door hissed open again.

 

General Hux strode into the conference room flanked by two Stormtroopers, but froze when he saw you standing by the table. The troopers almost walked into him, stumbling to a halt just before the three of them ended up in a heap on the floor. He recovered his composure in less than a second and dismissed his guards, walking to stand by the large window at the far end of the room. Phasma raised an eyebrow at you across the table and you choked down the urge to roll your eyes at the superior officer. Hux turned suddenly and gestured for you and the Captain to take a seat. The metal was cold as you folded your hands on the table in front of you, preparing yourself for whatever was coming. You could only imagine why you’d been called into the meeting. You breathed a silent sigh of relief when Hux asked you to run through the battle strategy for the next ground assault teams. You pulled your datapad out of your jacket and immediately started taking everybody through the strategies you’d developed.

 

All the way through the meeting, you could feel Hux’s eyes on your face. His stare didn’t waver for a second, not even when you turned to look directly at him. It was like he was in a trance. You stuttered more than once but managed to keep the blush at bay. Phasma leaned back in her chair when you’d finished, clearly impressed by the amount of work you’d put in for her field teams. The officers around you looked dumbfounded, as though they hadn’t expected you to have come prepared.

“Excellent work, Lieutenant. You’ve certainly lived up to your reputation. Stay for a moment, the rest of you are dismissed” General Hux finally broke his stare and turned back to the window. You held back the smug grin that threatened your lips and simply nodded. Phasma and the rest of the officers gathered their things, and were about to leave when the door hissed open again.

 

You seemed to be the only one in the room that didn’t flinch when Commander Kylo Ren walked in and slammed his gloved hands down on the table in front of him. You’d been assigned as one of his personal officers before relocating to the bridge and in those months you’d become familiar, there was little the man could do to scare you anymore. Phasma lingered behind the group of frantically retreating officers, only turning her back when Hux waved a hand at her. You moved to leave, but Kylo gestured for you to stay and you settled back into your seat. You didn’t dare raise your eyes from the table, to either of the two men as they stared each other down across the room. The tell-tale hissing of Ren’s helmet forced your gaze up anyhow and you watched him stalk around the table to stand opposite you.

“I’ll send you the plans Commander, it’s not a problem.” You tried not to stumble over your words under the intensity of his dark eyes. Kylo nodded and looked expectantly at Hux, a silent conversation seemed to pass between the two and the room became stiflingly tense. You tucked your datapad back into your jacket and rose from the table, drawing the gaze of the two men.

 

“Thank you, General Hux, for your support. None of those officers would have given me a second glance had it not been for your unwavering faith.” You had to fight to keep your face neutral as Hux’s cheeks reddened at your tone. Admittedly, your slightly hushed voice was barely work appropriate, but you wanted him to know that you’d noticed. You wanted him to know you had him all figured out. You nodded at Ren, and stalked through the halls back to your desk without a backward glance.

 

Hux never returned to the bridge, his looming presence instead replaced by that of Kylo Ren. The shadowy figure stood over your shoulder for several minutes until he finally cleared his throat. You looked up and he gestured for you to follow him, the two of you walking through the Finaliser halls for several minutes. He turned into an empty corridor, and you waited. That trademark hiss of his helmet and those dark eyes had you pinned again.

“I can’t take his whining anymore, the man thinks too loudly. Hux is in love with you. Do with that information what you will, but please just do something.” His words were hushed, but that didn’t stop the blush in your cheeks. You’d known it, you were sure the whole of the First Order knew it, but the confirmation was something else entirely. Kylo left you to your thoughts in that empty corridor, and you let the grin break onto your face. A breathless giggle pushed its way out of your lungs, you allowed yourself the luxury for a brief moment before straightening up and making your way to the General’s office.

 

The door slid open before you’d even lifted your hand to knock, revealing Hux sat expectantly at his desk. Like he knew you were coming. You stepped inside, the door sliding closed behind you, and regarded the man in front of you for a moment. He studied your face, as if your eyes would tell him why you were there. You opened your mouth to speak, but his movement silenced you. He rose from his seat and came to a stop before you.

“I know why you’re here.” He whispered. You stepped closer and raised an eyebrow, silently inviting him to continue. He didn’t, he only let his words hang in the air as you watched one another. You took another step towards him, and you could feel the heat radiating off of his body. His eyes dropped to your lips for a split second, but it was all the confirmation you needed.

 

Your hands found their way to his jaw, pulling his face to yours and you wasted no time. The kiss was slow at first, hesitant, but you soon fell into the rhythm of it. His fingers tucked into the belt that secured your jacket and pulled you further into him, backing up until the desk pressed into the back of his thighs. His movements were soft, gentle, so different from the man you knew. He pulled away, but kept you close, and you sighed contentedly.

“If I’d known that’s what it would be like, I’d have kissed you weeks ago.” He breathed, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. This man was going to be the death of you, and you didn’t mind one little bit.


	12. Knew You In The Dark Part 2 (Hux)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Request from @auqananner24: Can I get a part 2 after the war where the first order eventually crumbles, and Hux and reader eventually reunite? I need a happy ever after.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote an alternative beginning to this but I didn’t want it to be too happy bc what’s the fun in that so apologies to my best friend in advance for what I did to Skipper- I’m vaguely playing with the idea of a part 3 to this? Just to tie things up and all, let me know what you think xx

It wasn’t without loss. The Resistance had won, the First Order had fallen apart from the inside out, but everyone had lost so much. It would take a long time for the galaxy to recover, billions of families had been ripped apart and whole planets destroyed. You let your gaze rake across the old base for the last time, a strange weight settled on your chest, and sighed. You’d called this place home for the last 5 years of the war. Most of the Resistance soldiers had already gone home, or settled on new planets, but there were a few stragglers still milling around. You loaded the last of the supplies into the back of your little transport, but you weren’t finished yet.

 

The halls were almost silent, save for the distant whir of engines from the landing strip. You walked slowly, allowing the memories to flood your mind. The years blurred together, bittersweet. Jokes shared over dinner in the mess hall, the friends you’d made, the friends you’d lost, the recruits you’d trained. You found yourself outside again, feet automatically carrying you through the trees to the little clearing. You sat cross-legged in front of the stone and threaded your fingers through the long grass. The grey headstone stuck out against the deep green shade of the trees, but you knew she wouldn’t have minded. Captain Frankie Skipper had become your right hand out in the field, quickly rising through the ranks as you did. You’d only been assigned at the base for a few months when she fell in battle. Her wounds were extensive and after almost a year in the medical bay with no sign of improvement, the doctors decided to turn off her life support. It was one of the worst days of your life, watching her die.

“I thought I might find you here.” Poe sat beside you, dark eyes tracing the letters carved into the rock in front of you both.

“I just wanted to say goodbye, and promise that I’d come visit her soon. She deserved better than this.” You whispered, keeping your gaze focused on the grass between your fingers. He nudged your shoulder with his and you glanced up, he was holding back tears just as desperately as you were.

“She did, but she won’t be alone.” Poe was staying on base, establishing a colony with a few groups of refugees as his parents had on Yavin IV. He’d bonded with the girl too, often treating her word of advice with more respect than any of the higher up commanding officers. He’d looked at her like she was the reason the sun shone, like she’d hung the stars in the sky, and the two of you had clung onto each other in tears when the doctors unplugged her. You stood up and brushed off your trousers, Poe following suit. He cleared his throat and clapped a hand on your shoulder. You smiled sadly, took a last look back at Skipper, and made your way back through the eerily quiet base with your best friend.

 

“So, I heard a rumour, if you’re up for it.” That familiar cheeky smirk graced his features, and the mischievous glint in his eye brought you right back to the moment you met him. You raised an eyebrow and leaned back against your transport, gesturing for him to continue.

“I don’t know where you’re headed, but you might want to think about Coruscant. It’s a stretch, but a friend of mine was sure they saw a redhead in their building. Tall, skinny guy, kind of pasty.” He gave you that sly grin again, shrugging his words off like they were nothing. Like they didn’t make your heart stop in your chest. You’d tried your hardest to push him from your mind, but you could never quite move on. You’d had a fair amount of chances, but you’d pulled back every time. Your heart and soul belonged to him, regardless of which side you were on. There were times you wished you’d accepted the training that Ren and Snoke had offered you back in the First Order, wished you could reach out through the Force to find him. To check he was okay, that was all. The temptation to go looking for him when you’d first heard about him going on the run was almost too much to bear, but you had responsibilities. You still had to do your job even though the war was ending. But now that job was done, and you didn’t have anywhere to go. You were desperate to get off base, even though you were sure you would come back eventually. You caught Poe by surprise, pulling him into a tight hug.

 

“Thank you.” You whispered, clutching onto his jacket. He held you just as tightly, as though this would be the last time you ever saw each other. Your thanks were for more than just the information he’d given you. Poe had been the only one who was willing to listen to you when it came to Armitage Hux, he knew your love had been genuine. He saw the struggle in your eyes when you had to discuss Hux in command meetings.

“Go get your man, Colonel. We’ll roll out the welcome wagon when you come back, for you and anyone else who tags along.” He winked as he pulled away, and you pushed his shoulder playfully.

“Well, if we’re using titles. I’ll see you soon, Admiral.” You shot him a smile over your shoulder as you boarded the small transport. You settled into the pilot seat, took a deep breath, and set the coordinates for Coruscant into the computer. You’d be back, you knew that much, but you could only hope you’d be back with Armitage in tow. Still, hope had never failed you before.

 

Coruscant was not a fun place to be. The lower levels were, at the very least, marginally less crime ridden than they had been at the height of the war. Most of the galaxy was being rebuilt from the ground up, the surviving planets and systems each establishing their own governing bodies from the rubble. You pulled your jacket around you a little tighter, avoiding the eyes of anyone who looked your way. Eventually, the building you were looking for came into view. On the corner of two smaller streets, the stone and steel apartment block towered over the marketplace below. Your breath shuddered in your chest, it was now or never.

 

The lobby of the building was dark, the damp air clung to your skin, and you wondered how you’d find him in what must have been hundreds of rooms. You settled yourself against a lone table by the far wall and closed your eyes. You’d never trained in the ways of the Force, you could only ask for it to help you. Your breathing slowed and you focused on him, on everything you knew him to be. You didn’t know how long you’d been leaning against that rickety table, but by the time your eyes opened the sky had darkened to that blue-black shade you loved so much. Suddenly, there. You didn’t know how but you knew where he was. It was the Force, like a rope pulling you towards that light and warmth and love that you still felt for him even after so many years.

 

You found yourself in a dingy corridor, 20 stories off the ground, before you felt him properly. It was as though he was suddenly in range, like a signal had boosted in your mind. You wandered the hall, waiting for something. Anything, really. Just to show you where he was. But nothing jumped out at you, there were no numbers or names on the doors. Even the Force appeared to have abandoned you, like its work was somehow done, and you were left standing in an empty hallway on a planet you hated with a passion. The chrome walls were dull, singed by blaster fire both old and recent, and you tried to reach out to him. You tried to find something, anything, that might give you a clue as to where he was. There was a chance he wasn’t home, maybe he’d moved on since Poe’s friend had seen him, or maybe he’d never been here altogether. It wouldn’t make sense for such a high-ranking officer to go to the one planet where you could guarantee disappearance. Except, from an espionage point of view, it was the perfect plan: hide in plain sight. Take refuge in a city where most creatures didn’t want to spend an hour, much less the rest of their lives. You were vaguely aware of a door opening somewhere behind you, but you were too busy trying to feel the Force that you didn’t even hear your name until he was standing in front of you.

 

Your hand flew to your blaster immediately, instincts still that of a war-torn soldier, but paused before you drew it. Immediately, you weren’t stood in that darkened hallway on Coruscant, you were in the midst of still-smoking ruins with the love of your life staring you down. The last time you’d ever seen him, the last time you were sure you ever would. You blinked again, and your mind was back in the present. Back on Coruscant, back in that hall, with Armitage Hux standing right in front of you. His hair had grown out a little, messy and tangled, a full red beard now obscured the lower half of his face, and the rumpled civilian clothing he now wore was lightyears away from the polished and proper General you’d known before. But he was here, in front of you, and for the first time in years you weren’t on opposing sides. You were just two people, reuniting. Hopefully.

“Oh, Maker.” You breathed, and stumbled forward into his arms. He enveloped you immediately, everything from the last few years bubbled up to the surface. You’d mentally prepared, during the war, to shoot him if you had to. But you knew now that if it had ever come to that, you wouldn’t have been able to do it. You couldn’t have killed him, you were too selfish. You wanted him, you needed him, to live. His silent tears soaked the top of your head as you pulled him even closer, your own tears leaving darkened trails on his tan shirt.

 

“I didn’t think I’d ever see you again. I thought you might have - you might have moved on.” He mumbled, still clutching you to his chest as though you’d disappear the second he let you go.

“Never, I would never. I’m here, I’m here and I’m never leaving you again. Come with me.” You sniffled, lifting your head to look at him. His eyes were tired, bloodshot, but still those same blue eyes you dreamed about. He froze as your words dawned on him.

“Come with you? Where could we go?” He asked as his fingers trailed down your back. His hands rested on your hips, underneath your jacket, and his fingertips just barely skimmed your skin under the hem of your shirt.

“Home. No one’s going to hurt you anymore, I promise. Poe’s already worked out a backstory, no one is going to know who you were or what you did. And you can come home, to me.” You whispered, voice filled with hope and longing for this future. The future where Armitage could stand by your side and not be afraid, where he could laugh and relax and not have to sleep with one eye open. You wanted that safety and security for him, you wanted him to stay with you forever.

“And you think changing my name, making up a story, is going to fix everything I’ve done? You think that Poe Dameron isn’t going to shoot me the second I set foot on his precious base? He might be your friend, but he’s not mine.” There it was. The cold, clipped manner of General Armitage Hux that you knew so well. You recoiled from his grasp, taking a step back, and it was as though the ground had opened up beneath you. As though his words had ripped a chasm in the earth to mirror the one in your chest.

“Arms, he won’t lay a finger on you. I’d sooner fight a Rathtar with my bare hands than my best friend, but I’ll do it for you. I’d do anything for you, and I wouldn’t have offered you a place in my home without knowing for sure you’d be safe.” You replied as you folded your arms across your chest, the tears on your cheeks forgotten. Your sharp tone made you flinch, but it was what he needed to hear. He needed to know that you wouldn’t be leading him headfirst into danger. He needed to trust you. Armitage was still for a long moment, analysing your every word as he studied your face You knew his game. He would wait you out, until you either blurted out the truth or stormed away. It was something he’d done when you’d argued before. The two of you could have stood in that hallway all night, but neither of you would have moved an inch. You took the initiative and stepped forward, stretching out a shaky hand to him. He hesitated for another second, but wrapped his cold fingers around yours and nodded.

 

The truth was, you weren’t sure. You didn’t know if anyone would recognise him without the First Order uniform and hordes of Stormtroopers behind him. But you knew you’d fight to keep him, you’d walked away from him so many times that you weren’t going to let it happen again.


	13. Mixed Signals (Rey)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Request from anon: Hi, could I have a rey x fem/reader please. With the prompt: 32.“You’re sat in my lap.” “And it means nothing, I still don’t like you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been away for a little while because I had to undergo pretty major surgery at very short notice and I've been recovering for the better part of 3 weeks. I'm much better now and physio is going well so its looking up :) 
> 
> My tumblr is fictional-spacefarts if you wanted to request anything or just drop me a message to say hi, I'd love to hear from you :) x

You huffed out a frustrated sigh, wiping the sweat from your forehead with the back of your hand. It didn’t seem to matter how long you trained, how many instructions she gave you. You failed every single time.

“You just need to plant your feet more, you’ll get the hang of it.” Rey smiled, offering her hand to help you off the floor. You accepted it, dragged yourself to your feet and dusted off your shirt. The wooden staff she’d knocked out of your hands lay fifteen feet to your right. You sighed dejectedly, a heavy sigh pushing out of your lungs. Hand to hand combat was not your forte, you were far more comfortable in a gunner position on one of the cruisers, but you picked up the staff anyway. Another few strikes from Rey had you on your ass in the dirt again, and you cursed yourself inwardly.

Your relationship with Rey was complicated to say the least. Some days the two of you were thick as thieves, others days had you butting heads over just about anything. The truth was, you weren’t sure what you felt for her. She could be so headstrong and the most stubborn person you’d ever met, but there were times when she was soft and kind and you wanted nothing more than to fall into her arms. It was that smile of hers, you were sure of it. A split-second flash of that sunshine-bright grin when you met and you knew you were a goner.

Your comlink broke your thoughts as it beeped from the bench across the room and you shot an apologetic smile at Rey, but she wasn’t paying attention. Her eyes were squeezed shut, her hand gripped her staff so tightly you were sure she was about to snap it in half. The grin fell from your face and you dove for your comlink. The static crackled for a second before Lieutenant Connix’s voice overwhelmed the quiet space.

“Captain, get to command now! Grab Rey if you see her!”

The barely masked panic was clear in your friend’s words and your heart stopped in your chest. You turned to Rey; the two of you stared at each other for a long moment. You didn’t know what was happening but you could tell that Rey had seen it. The Force could be helpful like that sometimes. The way the blood had drained from her face told you everything you needed to know. The two of you sprinted for the command centre, staffs left abandoned in the middle of the dusty training ring.

You’d forgotten you were still barefoot until you pushed through the doors and raced across the landing pad to the second building. It wasn’t much of a new base, two large outbuildings with a concrete strip in the middle, but it was home. You ignored the little rocks jabbing into the soles of your feet, making a mental note to visit the medbay when this was over, and pushed forward to the command centre. You almost crashed right into Rey as she froze in the doorway of the new command room. She was staring intensely at General Organa, the two of them clearly having a mental conversation about the situation. You rolled your eyes and pushed past her to get to the central console.

“Finn!” You caught him by the collar as he passed you, “What’s happening?”

“They hit an allied outpost, Leia’s sure we’re next.” He pulled away from you and rushed over to Connix as she started to block all outgoing signals from the base. It took a moment to realise what they were doing. You weren’t running, you were going underground. One of the first things that General Organa had insisted on was a set of underground bunkers in the forest, far enough away that everyone would live if the base was attacked and far enough apart that should any enemies find one bunker, they wouldn’t find the others. You nodded to yourself and raced to the nearest free database, encrypting and hiding away any information that could help the First Order. You had to cover the tracks, make it seem like you’d all abandoned the base weeks, if not months, before they came looking. A heavy hand on your shoulder jolted you out of your task, and you turned to glare at the culprit. Rey’s usually bright eyes had darkened with concern as you realised you were the last two left in the room.

“You’ve done what you can, we have to go.” The certainty in her voice left no room for negotiation, but you couldn’t bring yourself to choke down the argument that bubbled up inside you.

“All I need is five more minutes! I’m almost done, I swear!” You countered, following her out onto the tarmac and towards the last land speeder regardless.

“We don’t have five minutes, get on.” She hopped up onto the speeder and held her hand out to help you. Your eyes rolled almost involuntarily, but you took her hand anyway. Arguing was useless, it would only make things more difficult, so you kept your mouth shut and stewed your frustration as she guided the speeder through the trees towards bunker three.

An hour out from the base, and you were still zooming through the forest to get to relative safety. You raised your gaze to the canopy, spotting the tell-tale outline of a Star Destroyer in the blue sky behind the multi-coloured leaves. Rey skimmed to a halt next to a large tree and hit a notch in the bark, opening a sliding panel in the forest floor. She guided the speeder into the hole and you were plunged into darkness as the panel shifted back into place above you. Rey shut off the speeder and you hopped to the floor as it lowered you further underground.

The strip lights in the ceiling flickered as the bunker trembled once again. It felt closer this time, but you were sure they weren’t directly overhead yet. You’d be able to feel the reverberation in your bones when that time came. Thankful, for the first time since you’d been shoved into the cramped space, that you were so deep underground. The main command team had initially been split into equal groups and each assigned to one of the seven bunkers, so the Resistance still had a leadership team should anything go wrong. There had been so many drills, planned and surprised, that most recruits could have made the journey in their sleep. The panic that had accompanied actual threat had meant that you’d been so engrossed in your work that Rey had dragged you to her assigned bunker instead of jumping on a speeder with Connix to Bunker Five like you were supposed to. Not that it was by any means a bad thing, you were probably safer with a powerful Force user than with anybody else on base.

You sighed and stood up, pacing around a few feet in front of the bench. Packed with all different species, all different ranks, and the entire back end filled to the ceiling with supplies, you could have all survived for months in the 10x13 foot reinforced shelter. The occupants of the bench shifted to take up the space you’d vacated, it wasn’t exactly comfortable for thirty people in the confines of the bunker. Well, thirty-one.

It wasn’t a simple tremble. No, this time the entire body of the shelter shuddered so violently, you were sure it was about to split in two. Another vicious tremor meant you lost your footing, sending you flying into the arms of the nearest poor soul huddled on the bench behind you. The sound rattled your very soul as you squeezed your eyes shut, and prayed they wouldn’t break through. The arms that had received you pulled you down into their lap and held you tightly by the waist. You were grateful that they hadn’t let you go, that they hadn’t let you crash to the floor.

Eventually, the bombing stopped. The quiet was strange, it felt almost unfamiliar, and you were apprehensive to open your eyes. The crackle of static and mumbled words from the comm system by the door reassured you. Everyone was alright, everyone was reporting in, nobody had died. This time. New recruits had been pouring in since the Resistance had nearly been eliminated, you weren’t sure anyone had the resolve to experience that kind of loss and defeat a second time around. You chanced a glance at the person you were sat on, their grip hadn’t let up for the better part of an hour, and rolled your eyes.

“ ** _You’re sat in my lap_**.” Rey whispered, like she couldn’t quite believe you were really there.

“ ** _And it means nothing, I still don’t like you_**.” You replied, shifting to get up. She yelped in protest, catching you by surprise. Rey just grinned, and held you a little tighter.


	14. Miscommunications (Poe)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Request from @giggleberts : Hey Eloise. As promised, am here :) I actually wanted something with angst followed by fluff like my safe place and prompts I thought might be suitable are nos 16 and 30. For Poe. Does that work for you?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow so I've been gone for a little while, you know how it is with car accidents and break ups and all. But I'm back and ready to write and I'd like to thank the people that checked in with me while I was gone, y'all are angels. I'm always around for a chat or requests or anything really bcs I love you all very much and I'd like to thank you for sticking with me through this.

What the hell is wrong with you?

You and your stupid brain and your inability to keep your stupid emotions under control.

 

Every recruit had, at one point or another, had a crush on him. Every single recruit. The only difference was that your own childish crush had grown into a complicated muddle of almost definitely unrequited feelings and mixed signals from the man himself. His little smiles and absent touches had your heart rate skyrocketing, the way you stuttered over words made you sure that he knew what he did to you. But that didn’t seem to stop him. The whole situation was messy regardless, but you’d just made it a thousand times worse. You’d hugged him tightly and wished him luck, not that it was out of the ordinary. Pilots were a close-knit group, and living from mission to mission came with the added bonus of constantly fearing for each other’s lives. You’d let your nerves get the better of you and now? Now, you weren’t sure if you’d ever be able to look him in the eyes again. You’d fled the scene as soon as you realised what you’d done, not stopping until you found yourself in the middle of the command room. Officers lined the walls, both superior and inferior to your rank, and watched with quiet curiosity as you smiled awkwardly and backed out of the room and hurried back to your quarters. You should have laughed, played it off as an accident. Which, in a way, it was. You hadn’t meant to, but you did it. You’d kissed Poe Dameron.

 

It was quick, a light peck just barely on the corner of his mouth, but it had happened. It had happened and there was nothing you could do about it. You just had to wait for him to come back. Your mind raced through ways you could avoid the conversation you knew he’d want to have when he got back from wherever it was he was flying off to. This mission was classified, as most of his were, and you’d been left in the dark just as much as anyone else. Those were the worst missions, when nobody knew where he was going or when he’d be back. Sometimes it would only be a few days and a black eye, other times it would be weeks followed by a stay in the medbay.

 

“I think you might be overreacting, sugar. Shrug it off, say you meant to go for his cheek and he moved, laugh about it and move on.” Ni’yana flipped her headtails behind her shoulders as she settled on the top step of the ladder at edge of your bunk. You sighed and returned your gaze to the ceiling, picking out hairline cracks in the cement.

“Except I ran away.” You mumbled as you propped yourself up on your elbows, shooting her a withering glare. She echoed your frustrated sigh and began to unfurl her headtail wrappings.

“Okay, there’s that. Look, now I have to be the take-no-shit friend since I’m not the only one to notice you’re being weird. I’m saying this because you’re my best friend and I love you, but buck up. You’ve never let a man get in your way before, so why start now? Why throw all of this away over a guy with fancy hair and a cute butt?”

 

You wanted to argue that you liked him for more than the way he looked, that he was kind and funny and brighter than the sun, but she had a point. You’d spent the last week and a half dismantling various parts of your A-Wing only to put them back together again. Ni’yana had taken to running training drills with your squadron as well as her own, and it was pretty clear that she’d had enough. Everyone had had enough. It was high time you got back on your game, Poe Dameron drama be damned.

 

Your squadron were taking a well-earned break, laying side by side in the sunshine on the grass verge by the runway. Chap, your second in command, cracked an eye open as your shadow passed over his face.

“Nice to see you again, Commander.” He grinned, although you could pick out the hesitancy in his voice.

“I’ll see all of you in the hangar, bright and early, tomorrow morning. If you’re late, you’re demoted.” You winked as you settled down in the grass beside your team, the four of them bundling on top of you in a giggling heap. They had you back, and you were determined to get them back to where they were before.

 

The forests of D’Qar passed by in a blur as you lead your squadron through each checkpoint. It had been a month since your minor meltdown and, in that time, you’d trained every day to become even better than the five of you had been before. It was as though they could anticipate your commands before you gave them, the group of A-Wings moving as a single organism. Twisting and turning in the air above the tree canopies, and you were damn fast. Drag races across the planet weren’t uncommon during the rare moments of downtime, and your pilots had outrun every single team that went up against you. Even Black Squadron, admittedly without their Fearless Leader, had been left in your proverbial dust.

 

You were the last to touch down on the landing pads, as always, and found a fresh-faced new recruit waiting on the tarmac. He stammered out the orders he’d been given, that you were to report to the command centre immediately, and scuttled away as soon as the words were out of his mouth. You shrugged off his nervousness and made your way inside, through the twisting corridors and down into the command room. General Organa, your fellow flight commanders, and several other superior officers were gathered around the main console in the middle of the room. From what you could tell, you were the last to arrive. Leia greeted you with a smile, pulling up a hologram of a planet you vaguely recognised above the desk.

“For those of you who don’t know, this is Jakku. It’s a desert planet, barely inhabited, there’s a few small settlements but overall, it’s nothing special. The intel gathered by Commander Dameron on his last mission confirms that the map is on that planet, in the hands of an old friend.” A murmur rippled through the small crowd in response to the new information. It was the final hurdle, the last push to find the legend. To find Luke. Your mind was already overflowing with ideas of missions, and hope that the war would finally take a turn in the Resistance’s favour with the most powerful Jedi at its side. You’d been lost in thought, so much so that the meeting had disbanded already.

“He was asking for you, you know, when they took him down to medical.” Leia appeared at your side, the two of you illuminated by the blue of the hologram. You stifled an awkward laugh.

“Is he okay?” You tried to sound indifferent, to sound as though you were just making idle conversation. You tried, Gods knew you tried, but you failed spectacularly.

“He’s fine, just a check-up. I can’t imagine Kalonia will be able to keep him down there for long, he was pretty determined to find you.” You didn’t miss the amusement that laced her words, the way her eyes slid over to you as you swallowed thickly. Oh, stars.

 

You spent the next few days avoiding almost everybody, and absolutely nowhere seemed to be safe. Nearly every moment not spent sleeping, you were in the air to train with your squadron. You only ventured into the hangar or the mess hall when you knew he was flying or if he’d been pulled into a meeting. You could barely get through a conversation with anybody without them telling you that Poe had been looking for you. You knew it was better to face the whole mess head on instead of hiding away, but it was a lot easier to avoid it. Your heart jumped into your throat at the thought of actually talking to him about it. The somewhat accidental, somewhat on purpose, definitely regretful kiss.

 

**“I’ve been looking for you everywhere,** but you knew that.”

 

You tried not to visibly cringe when his voice floated through the open engine hatch. Ni’yana had told you he was in briefings all day, the scheming little bugger. You steeled yourself for the conversation ahead, schooling your face into something resembling bleak indifference, and hauled yourself out of your engine. He waited for you to climb down the ladder before taking a step closer. He had you cornered, trapped between your A-Wing and his body. You had nowhere to run.

 

“Good to see you’re still alive, Dameron. Although I can’t say it wasn’t nice to have some peace and quiet around here for once.” Your tone was steady, even. Nothing like your heartbeat. Poe rolled his eyes, and you wondered if he could hear your pulse racing.

“We need to talk, about the- “

“Oh, Gods, it was an accident. You moved and I slipped, that’s all.” You cut him off, praying to every star in the heavens that you were convincing enough as you sorted through your tool trolley to keep your hands busy. You couldn’t look at him, if you did you’d cave.

“You’re a terrible liar.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

His exasperated sigh forced your eyes up from the trolley. He looked tired, the yellowed traces of a fading bruise on his right cheekbone. When was the last time he’d slept?

“Get some rest, Poe.” You pushed past him, but he caught your wrist and spun you back around to face him. He didn’t say anything else, only searched your face for another long moment before letting you go. You refused to believe you were the reason he was losing sleep. It was the looming mission to Jakku, it had to be. It couldn’t be you. Poe ‘raised by rebels’ Dameron couldn’t be distracted by you.

 

It was the middle of the night when someone started hammering on the door to your quarters. Ni’yana groaned and hauled herself out of the nest of blankets the two of you had made in her bed. You’d recounted the entire awkward mess of a conversation you’d had with Poe in the hangar, barely stumbling through a sentence before the guilt hit you. Somewhere in your mind, you knew that you had no right to cry over it but you couldn’t stop the tears once they’d started. Ni’yana had bundled you up in her blankets, holding you close and reassuring you as you fell asleep. She was practically knocked off her feet as the man in question burst into the room looking even more flustered than he did earlier that day.

 

“I can’t sleep. I can’t because I need to know if you meant it. Please tell me, just tell me because I can’t think about anything except you.” He was a mess, raking his hands through his hair as he came to a halt in front of you. You didn’t suppose you looked much more put together, the tear tracks on your cheeks had yet to dry. A helpless glance over to the doorway told you that Ni’yana had disappeared already. You didn’t blame her, in all honesty you weren’t exactly looking forward to the conversation that was about to follow.

 

“I already told you, it was an accident.” You mumbled, shuffling your way out of the blankets and to the edge of the bed. You met his eyes immediately, unlike the last time, and he froze. You couldn’t tell what he was thinking, unusual for a man who always wore his heart on his sleeve. He was an open book to his friends, somehow you didn’t think that included you anymore.

“See, I don’t buy that. It’d be easier if I did, but I can’t. I just- **How the hell did you get to mean so much to me?** I’m a Commander, I have missions and assignments and pilots to train, and- and you! You’re there, in my head, all the time, so I compartmentalised. And then you went and did that, so I need to know if you’re up for this or not. If you don’t want to do this, then I’ll go. I’ll go and we can act like it never happened. Okay?”

 

You couldn’t move. You could barely breathe. Did this mean-?

 

Poe took your silence as an answer, spinning on his heel, and headed for the door. He was halfway into the hall when your brain kicked in. You shot up from your spot on the bed and caught him by the elbow. Your eyes locked, and all the doubts in your mind melted away. You wanted this, you wanted him. Your hand slipped from his arm to the waist of his jacket, and it was like everything happened in slow motion. His fingers ghosted over your face as the two of you backed up into your room, the door sliding shut behind you. In a split second, he had you up against it, eyes fluttering shut when he pressed his forehead into yours. You waited for him to do something, anything.

 

“Can I?” He whispered, so quietly you might have imagined it. You didn’t respond, only closed the gap between your lips. He was tentative at first, careful, so unlike the Poe you knew. You fisted your hands in his jacket, suddenly desperate to feel his body on every inch of your own, and pulled him further into you. Poe chuckled and returned the favour, pushing you right up against the door. His hands settled on your cheeks as his tongue slipped in beside yours, and he swallowed the traitorous moan that clawed its way out of your throat. You could have been there for hours, days. The entire galaxy could have imploded there and then and you wouldn’t have cared. You could have kissed Poe for the rest of your life. He pulled away too soon, grinning from ear to ear. That was your doing, you put that smile there. That bright, blinding smile.

“I’ll take that as a yes, then.” He murmured, tracing a finger along your cheekbone.

“I’d say so.”


	15. Reckless Teasing (Hux)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Request from @kethux: There are so many interesting ideas in that list, it's hard to make a choice! I like how 109 & 110 might completely work together... Would these inspire you for another Hux prompt? (How predictable, I know... lol)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so after a minor disaster with my ex and google docs I have FINALLY finished my latest Hux request for a very lovely friend of mine, feel free to drop me a message or an ask if you want to request anything bcs i LOOOOOVE to hear from you guys xxx

You knew you were in for it the second you touched down. You hadn’t lost a single pilot, your whole team made it back to Starkiller base in one piece, but they’d gotten away. The Resistance bastards had slipped through your fingers, and you’d almost been shot down in the process. Admittedly, you’d been showing off a little, but only because you knew he was watching. A glance behind you at Duno, your gunner, told you he was fine. Neither of you had gotten hurt as the laser bolt grazed your right shield, but you’d been shaken about a little. He was your second in command, your best friend, and he was more than likely in for a bollocking from your superior officer too. 

 

You spotted him before you even entered the ship’s hangar bay, flanked by six Stormtroopers, as you made sure you were the last of your team to land. Most Captains you knew would already be giving their mission reports by the time their team had been given clearance to dock. But you’d gone to hell and back more than once with these pilots, and you weren’t about to leave a single one of them behind. You hovered near the door until the flight coordinator on duty cleared you for docking, feeling his cold eyes on your face even when you knew he couldn’t actually see you. He hated when you flew fancy. The theatrics were unnecessary, you knew that, but you liked to show off a little sometimes. Just to let the Resistance pilots know that they weren’t the only ones with skill or love for what they did. You took a moment, a deep breath to steel yourself, before clambering out of the hatch. 

 

“Care to explain yourself, Captain?” His voice echoed off the metal walls before your feet hit the ground. You plastered a sweet smile on your face and turned on your heel, at this point there was no going back. When Armitage Hux was pissed off, he stayed that way for a good long while. It was fun to rile him up a little more, you knew he secretly loved it when you got on his nerves. 

“I’m sorry they got away, General,” You batted your eyelashes, “It won’t happen again.”

“ **_Don’t look so innocent_ ** , that’s not what I was talking about. Lieutenant Deniros, you can come too.” Hux didn’t bother to disguise the bite in his tone, stalking out of the hangar bay without so much as a backward glance to see if you were following. You exchanged a look with Duno and the two of you scurried after him. 

 

Hux’s office was modest, more so than the rest of the ship’s interior decorating. The dark walls were free from any red geometric patterns and there were no First Order seals anywhere to be seen, bar on the uniform of the man himself. He stood leaning against the front of the desk, you and Duno perched awkwardly in front of him on two uncomfortable grey chairs. It wasn’t usual to be reprimanded in private like this, most soldiers were publicly berated and humiliated to ensure they didn’t slip up again. Your hands folded in your lap, fingers absently twiddling the ring around your finger. A reminder of your promise to the man in front of you. His eyes dropped to the band and he pushed a sigh out of his nose.

“Duno Deniros, I’m putting you in for extra training on the simulators. If you’re going to be the gunner for the captain here, you’re going to be a better shot. You’re dismissed.” He waited until your second in command had scuttled out of the room before shifting his gaze back up from your hands to meet your own.

 

“I hope you know that the only reason he’s not dead is because he’s your friend. It’s not the first time he’s missed a shot and almost got you killed.” Armitage’s eyes softened the longer they were trained on your face, and you shot him a weak smile.

“It’s not Duno’s fault, I was too busy showing off. This one’s on me.” You mumbled, shifting your eyes away from his as you admitted your mistake. Another exasperated sigh and he settled into the chair beside you, scooting it closer until they were touching. He pulled your left hand up to rest on the plastic armrests between you. 

“You see this?” He twisted the small silver band on your finger, “This means you made a promise to me. To marry me. And I can’t be sure you’ll live to see that day if you keep pulling stunts like this.” 

 

You were the only person in the whole galaxy to see this side of General Armitage Hux. The soft, loving, caring side that only ever came out to play when you were alone with him. You loved him more than you’d ever loved anything, and you had promised. You’d promised him, the night he asked you to marry him, that you’d stop being reckless and putting yourself in harm’s way. You loved flying, and he loved to watch you fly. He loved it less when you were getting shot at, and to be fair you weren’t a huge fan of it either. You couldn’t wait until the war was over, you wanted to fly the two of you somewhere, anywhere. Where no one was around for miles and it was just you and him and absolutely nothing else mattered. Except that was a lifetime away. You were in the middle of a war, and in the middle of a war he’d asked you to marry him. And you’d said yes.

 

“I’m sorry, I love you.” You whispered, leaning in to kiss him. You were gentle with him, as always, and a smile forced its way onto your lips as his hands slipped up into your hair. You soon found yourself curled in his lap, unsure of how you got there but content all the same, as he ran his fingertips over your cheekbones and left tiny kisses on your jaw.

“Oh, and that innocent act you played in the hangar? Really not okay.” He muttered, planting an unusually heated kiss on your lips. You let him in without hesitation, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him in closer. You broke the kiss and leant your forehead against his.

“How so?” You replied mischievously, knowing exactly why it had gotten him so wound up. Armitage chuckled and bumped his nose lightly into yours.

“ **_You know that turns me on_ ** .” He whined, leaning in for another kiss. You backed up slightly, keeping your face just out of reach.

“And what if that was my intention?” You teased, hopping out of his lap and backing up into his desk. Hux’s eyes darkened as a wicked grin lit up his face. He walked towards you slowly, crowding you against the desk until he was the only thing in your line of sight. Oh you liked where this day was going, you liked it a lot.


	16. A Nudge in the Right Direction

“Okay stop, stop. You’ll break it if you pull it any harder, let me help.” 

 

You peered over Poe’s shoulder as he worked. After the evacuation and narrowly escaping the First Order, the Resistance had settled on a mostly uninhabited planet (save for the colourful birds in the tree canopies). The troops could deal with the bird calls and the humidity and whatever it was that lived in the lake, but the rain was something else altogether. Most of the new base was underground like D’Qar, dug into the natural cave systems that ran under the earth, except the hangar. General Organa had managed to round up enough spare parts and X-Wing skeletons to equip at least one squadron, the decision had been unanimous to give them to Poe and his team. The joy that rippled through the ranks was short-lived, as you soon discovered exactly why the only native species to the moon were the heavy feathered birds and water creatures. 

 

The rain wasn’t like anything you’d ever experienced. It was hot, sticky, and fell from the sky in sporadic blobs. No one was quite sure what it was exactly, but it congealed in every crack it landed on and somehow managed to find its way into everything. You were sure it was at least a little magnetic, seeping into the mechanics of anything unfortunate enough to be within reach. Which was what brought you to the present situation. Poe was trying to separate the spare engine parts that had been enveloped by the sticky substance. You grabbed the dampened cloth from the tool trolley beside him and lightly tugged the machinery out of his hands. He let out a tiny whine of protest, but surrendered immediately and you set to work. The only thing that seemed to dislodge the grey sludge was water and patience. So you sat on the floor under the makeshift hangar roof, carefully wiping at the parts until they pulled away from each other. Poe sat beside you in the dirt, watching you work, carefully placing the freed metal into a drawer in the trolley. Like he should have done the first time, the moron. It was oddly peaceful, the two of you sitting in the quiet as the birds chirped in the trees. 

 

A series of mechanical beeps pierced the strange calm that had settled over you, and your head whipped up to find the source of the noise. BB-8, narrowly avoiding the splodges of congealed goo on the ground, rolled his way towards you wrapped in some kind of translucent plastic sheet. As the droid got closer, it became apparent that the sheet was a makeshift cloak. Taped and stapled at the seams, with a hood and two little holes either side of his little round body. 

“ **_That is the cutest thing I’ve ever seen_ ** .” You chuckled as you pulled the last two spare screws apart, placing them carefully in the drawer, and brushed your hands off on your trousers. BB-8’s incessant beeping broke Poe out of whatever trance he’d been in, and he smiled softly at his droid. 

“I love the cloak, Eight. It’s very sludge-shower-chic.” You grinned, reaching under the hood to pat its head. 

_ Friend-Poe made it for me, he was very worried about the rain getting to my mechanics. And look! He cut holes for my tools and everything!  _

BB-8 extended two of its tool arms to demonstrate, flailing them around to show you just how much manoeuvrability it had. 

 

Poe couldn’t help the swell of his heart as he watched the two of you chatting, not dissimilar to the feeling he got whenever he looked your way. You and Poe were… something. You’d been on two dates before he was sent to Jakku, before everything had fallen apart and the entire resistance had to hit the ground running. So much had happened in such a short time, there didn’t seem to be room for him to worry about what might have been. Except things were slowing down with the new base and he had time, time to stop and take a breath and let his thoughts wander. To you, usually. That was where his mind went most of the time. He wanted to ask if you’d try again, but it wasn’t right. You’d lost your entire mechanics team in the D’Qar evacuation, and been shot at Crait, he couldn’t spring something like that on you when you were still hurting. Because you were, no matter how much you tried to hide it. He could tell when your laugh was hollow, or how you flinched if something brushed against your blaster wound scars. Poe noticed, he always noticed you. War was hell, and he wasn’t going to put you through more unnecessary stress by telling you that he wanted to start over with you.

 

“You coming, Dameron? Unless you’d rather get covered with goo.” You called over your shoulder with a smile, already walking back towards base with BB-8 at your heels. He stood and brushed imaginary dust from the front of his trousers. If you hadn’t known any better, you’d have said he was blushing. Just barely. But, of course, you did know better. He followed you inside, bumping your shoulder with his as you walked beside each other. 

 

The makeshift cantina sat in the heart of the base and, predictably, was bustling more often than not. Despite all the uniform, it was easy to forget the war and general sense of impending doom that the Resistance was trying so hard to ignore. It was there you found yourself that evening, wedged between Snap and Karé as their unofficial adopted child. You’d led the mechanic team for their squadron and they’d welcomed you into the little pilot family with open arms in the wake of your loss. You stole a chunk of bread from Poe’s plate, grinning as he shot you a fake glare. It wasn’t the familiarity of the situation that made you shift uncomfortably, it was the strange parallel of a memory. The same calm sense of belonging, jokes thrown across the table, but with a whole different group of people. The seven people who had been the most important to you in the galaxy were gone. They weren’t coming back. Jess picked up on your sudden mood shift before anybody else, asking quietly if you wanted to help her at the bar. You climbed out of the booth, boots squeaking on the leather seats, and shot a grin at the table behind you as you followed her through the crowd.

 

“Okay, what is your deal?” Karé turned on Poe the second you were out of earshot and stared him down as he shuffled in his seat. All formality was abandoned after hours, and she jumped at the chance to finally interrogate her oldest friend.

“My deal?” For all his espionage skills, he couldn’t lie to his squad. Even Snap, who admittedly was already half gone, laughed at the thinly veiled attempt to evade Karé’s intense stare. 

“Dameron, you can play dumb until your brain explodes but you know exactly what i’m talking about.” One perfect eyebrow raised and Poe dropped his head into his hands. 

 

You were leaning on the bar, chatting happily with Jess, when a sharp tap on your shoulder jolted you out of your conversation. The guy was tall, definitely not unattractive, but very, very drunk. 

“Forget the menu, you look way more appetising than anything else in here.”

You didn’t miss the underlying growl in his tone, or the way his eyes took their time to trail up and down your body. You had to repress the shudder that threatened and shot a glance at Jess over your shoulder. She gave nothing away, but had straightened up ready to jump to your defence in a second. He was leisurely taking you in for the third time before you cleared your throat.

“In that case I’m sorry, but we’re all out. Better luck next time.” You sighed heavily, trying your best to seem unfazed by the predatory way he was watching you.

“You sure? Because there seems to be a piping hot snack right in front of me.”

“Then you must be hallucinating, maybe you should head to medical.”

 

You turned to help Jess with the drinks, returning to the table without a backward glance. The rest of the group had clearly noticed what was going on by the bar, judging by Karé’s concerned eyes and Poe’s clenched jaw. You shot them a reassuring look and they seemed to calm, although Poe shuffled a little closer to you in the booth after you clambered back over him to your seat. Jess recounted your comeback, struggling to get the words past her snorts, and you couldn’t help but laugh yourself. It was so ridiculous and the poor guy was so drunk, you felt a little bad for him. Although it wasn’t like he’d remember the conversation in the morning. Snap was tearing up, he and Jess leant on each other as they tried to catch their breath from their hysterical laughter. 

“So he wasn’t your type then?” Karé asked, an amused grin on her lips as she drummed her fingernails on the side of her glass.

“Definitely not.  **_I don’t need some second-rate idiot who doesn’t know his ass from his elbow telling me I look like a snack when I know, for a fact, that I am a five course meal_ ** .” You shot back, sending Snap and Jess into another fit of giggles. 

“You’re not wrong.” Poe mumbled as he took a drink, the last of the tension finally slipping from his shoulders. Your gaze dropped to the table, studying the scratches in the old wood. He couldn’t still like you, not after everything. Could he? You’d been so caught up in evacuating and escaping that you’d almost forgotten how close you were to him before. How close you’d been to meaning something to each other. You shook it off, covering your hesitation with a light nudge of your shoulder against his. But he wasn’t paying attention, something across the room had caught his eye. You followed his gaze over to the bar, to where you’d been standing, to- oh. The guy you’d rejected was still there, glaring daggers at Poe. To his credit, Poe hadn’t flinched. He just held the stare, as though he was inviting the soldier to say something. The cantina became stifling with the silent standoff. 

 

You excused yourself to bed, faking a yawn behind your hand, and climbed back out of the booth. After a chorus of goodnight from your friends, you pushed through the crowd and out into the corridor. A familiar call of your name stopped you in your tracks, and you waited until Poe jogged around the corner to catch up.

“It’s not like you to quit early, Dameron. The last couple weeks finally catching up with you?”

 

Poe chuckled, shaking his head at your half-hearted dig. He looked like he wanted to say something else but couldn’t quite find the words, so you didn’t press him. Instead, you started chatting about anything and everything. Repairs you had to make, how close you were to getting his squadron up and running again, the rumour you’d heard that one of the communications officers was crushing hard on Jess. All the while he watched you, an odd smile on his face. He was thinking so much you were sure his head would explode, but he let you ramble on without protest until you arrived at the mechanics barracks. 

“I’ll see you in the morning, Commander.” You grinned, the title had been reinstated relatively quickly and using it still made him stand a little prouder.Poe nodded, still silent, and left in the direction of the pilots’ quarters. 

 

He stopped in his tracks as soon as he turned the corner, calling your name as he spun on his heel and almost sprinted back to where you were leaning against the doorway to the room you shared with two lower ranking mechanics. Your eyes had him skidding to a halt, wide and questioning, he knew he could look at them for the rest of his life. If you let him. He wanted to tell you all of that and more, but the words just wouldn’t come. He wanted to shout poetry about your eyes to the entire galaxy, he could have written a novel about the ways he wanted to kiss you. But he was no poet. So instead, a jumble of the least romantic words tumbled out of his mouth.

“I know the difference between my ass and my elbow, just so you’re aware.” 

You looked momentarily confused before your brain caught up and a smirk slid onto your lips.

“Oh I know. Goodnight, Poe.” You replied, finally turning into your room. You missed the cheek splitting smile lighting up his face as the door slid shut behind you, but the burning heat bloomed in your chest anyway. You could get used to the way he looked at you, if that’s what he wanted.


End file.
